


White Lies

by ijustliketowatch



Series: Slow Build [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, Romance, Season Rewrite, head canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 12:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 44,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijustliketowatch/pseuds/ijustliketowatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For some reason, Oliver just can't seem to come up with a convincing lie when it comes to Felicity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secret Identity

He starts lying to her almost from the moment they meet. At the time, it's a means to an end, but he eventually comes to feel bad about it.

She's sitting behind her desk chewing on a red pen as she works. The first thing that strikes him is how young she is. When the older, rumpled IT Director told him a Felicity Smoak was their best, he didn't really know what he expected. Definitely not a fresh-faced blonde in a pencil skirt and a pink blouse.

Like every other woman he encounters, she's a little flustered when she first sees him and he's so used to it now that it's more boring than flattering. Except then she embarks on the most awkward ramble he's ever encountered and it's suddenly fun again. One second he's introducing himself and the next she's bringing up his dead father and literally counting backwards aloud to stop herself. She presses her lips together as if her mouth might betray her again and he spends a moment pondering the fact that while the magenta shade painted on them initially seemed a little off, it actually manages to accentuate her mouth amongst all the other striking features: the blonde hair and the blue eyes and the black, rectangular glasses. But then he doesn't know why he's thinking about her lips at all, so he gives her an amused smile and hands her the laptop.

He had a better explanation for the bullet holes planned out in his head, but when it comes time, he says some lame line about spilling a latte on it. Maybe part of him wants to see how she'll react; he's so used to lying to everyone at this point that he wonders what it would be like for someone to catch him. He nearly laughs at the look she gives him: like a schoolteacher dealing with a student who just struck another and then immediately denied it. Her pursed lips conveying the "are you kidding me?" they don't speak. Yes, the magenta is a good choice. He soldiers on, committing to the lie and she eventually seems to accept it as part of the Oliver Queen legend and sets to work.

He pulls up a chair behind her as her hands fly over the keys at lightning speed. She's clearly adept and it's not just the fact that the chair he's sitting in places him slightly lower than her that makes Oliver feel a little like a student again. Her desk is organized, efficient and conspicuously devoid of personal touches. He wonders if this is intentional or an indication that she doesn't have much of a life outside the walls of Queen Consolidated. He'll have to check up on her background later—at least to see how old she actually is, which judging by sight could be as little as 19.

Finally, she gets past the encryptions and passwords and Oliver asks her to open a file marked with today's date, clearly whatever job Deadshot came to Starling City to perform. They're blueprints for a building where some auction is supposed to take place and Oliver only feels more like a student as Felicity (sounding downright annoyed now that the laptop is clearly not his) drops a Shakespeare reference while telling him that Floyd Lawton is working for a competitor. Suddenly, this whole situation looks a little like corporate espionage and she gives him a suspicious look before turning back to the computer to disconnect it. This could be a problem, Oliver thinks to himself. He'll definitely have to check up on her.

* * *

Felicity Megan Smoak ends up being slightly older than he expected, but hasn't been legally allowed to drink for enough time to make him totally comfortable.

The next time they talk, she's not so pleased to see him, saying something sarcastic about adding Oliver Queen's "Personal Internet Researcher" to her job title before he gives her a look that reminds her that he's also her boss. She backs off and he feels a little more in control, especially since he took the time to think up a better lie. This time he's just trying to find an old pre-island friend. Sounds innocuous enough, but once again, she destroys it within minutes.

Turns out, Derek Reston is a former employee of Queen Consolidated who got screwed over when the steel factory shut down. So, in some small way, this business, his business, shares some of the guilt for the Reston family's crime spree. He doesn't like getting reminders that his father contributed to the city's corruption. Yet somehow the way Felicity describes it, like a smug accusation–first for not knowing Reston at all and second for not knowing the horrible things that allow him to keep acting like a self-obsessed playboy–makes him feel the most shame. As if disappointing some nobody tech girl matters. But it does matter that it happens in front of Diggle and that he probably shares her low opinion.

Maybe that's why he considers offering Reston a new job at all and he feels a little better after, even if Reston doesn't take it.

* * *

Oliver decides that if he's going to keep using Felicity as his personal tech wiz, he'll have to make some changes. He puts in a request to have her desk moved somewhere a little more secluded, somewhere he can sneak into without being noticed. It's easy to hide as part of her recent promotion. They're too easily overheard in her old cubicle and he can't order her up to his office all the time. The more people see them together, the more they're going to wonder why. Not that Oliver necessarily minds the implication (he's got an image to maintain), but he doubts Felicity worked so hard to graduate a semester early from Starling State just so all of her success could be misconstrued as the result of some overtime with the company's womanizing heir.

He walks into the dark, intimate space for the first time and finds her staring at her tablet. As she did the first time they met, she doesn't notice he's there. He stares at her for a few seconds, her petite frame backlit by the blinking wall of servers behind her. The pink lipstick is a bit softer this time, but it contrasts so much with her light blue shirt that her lips are still what draw his eyes.

"Hey?" he asks and he almost bursts out laughing when she nearly jumps out of her seat.

"Don't you knock?" she says a little defensive and clutches the tablet a little tighter.

"Felicity, this is the IT Department," he says smiling and pauses for a second to wonder if her reaction might suggest she was looking at something not entirely work appropriate, "not the ladies' room." She lets out a short laugh as she sets down the tablet and he's a little surprised by the sound. Usually she's the amusing one. He wonders what it sounds like when she really laughs.

They get down to business then. He's come fully prepared with a story about a friend named Steve with a penchant for archery. She immediately makes a crack about how she thinks it looks "utterly ridiculous" and Oliver has to struggle not to share his opinions on the matter. This lie manages to last longer than the others and she gets a little huffy when it finally breaks down, but continues to play along anyway. He supposes that's just their routine now. As always, she easily finds out where the shipment was sent and writes it on a slip of paper in a unique almost whimsical script.

"Felicity," Oliver says, grinning at how she uncovers information as easily as he asks for it, "you're remarkable."

"Thank you for remarking on it," she responds. There's clearly satisfaction in her voice, but Oliver's surprised to realize there's a hint of flirtation that makes her voice sort of low and suggestive. It's an even nicer sound than the laughter.

He stands and wishes her a Merry Christmas as he turns to leave, but she quickly interjects that she's Jewish. Turning around, a little disappointed that that means he can't invite her to the big Queen Family Christmas party he's planning, he wishes her a Happy Hanukkah instead. She smiles and as he leaves, he wonders if it's still apropos to give her a gift.

* * *

It's well after business hours when he goes to her office to see if she can break into the security fob of some armored car thieves, so he doesn't really expect her to be there. Yet there she is, digging into a box of Chinese take out. He wonders if she eats many dinners like that, not just in her office, but at home as well. Seems a shame really, she's probably a fun date.

She quickly sets down her food and starts rearranging her desk when she sees him, looking just a little excited to break down another of his clearly fabricated stories.

"And here I was beginning to think my days of being Oliver Queen's personal computer geek were coming to an end," she says playfully.

"Is that your way of saying you missed me?" he teases.

"No, but if it works for you, go with it," she teases back. Oliver chuckles, a little glad that someone foolishly failed to ask her out tonight.

This time he's really thought about his story, though he supposes he's cheating a bit since he actually did organize a similar scavenger hunt shortly before ending up on the island. The only difference being that the prize at the end was a case of Lafite Rothschild 1988, not '82.

"Ooh," she coos when he names the vintage, "I love red wine." If only he'd known that during the holidays.

As always, she's bringing down the fob's military-grade security protocols within minutes and his lie is going with it.

"The idle rich are hard to entertain," he hedges, but he knows it's only a matter of time, so he decides to at least make it out of the room before the lie crumbles. "Listen, you get through it and one of those bottles of wine is yours," he says sweetly and gives her a playful tap on the shoulder. She smiles and looks up at him through her eyelashes as he walks out of the room and for a second, Oliver wishes his lies had longer shelf lives.

Though he's glad he's not there when Felicity realizes what she's got ahold of and suggests they call the cops. His slightly panicked lying probably isn't very convincing and he's thankful she can't see his face. He feels bad about being curt, but maybe he'll make it up to her by getting her a bottle of the Rothschild anyway, surely there's one in the Queen cellar.

* * *

He doesn't judge himself too harshly next time; he is under the influence of Vertigo, after all. Standing seems a better use of energy than coming up with a lie she'll just destroy anyway. Though he doesn't realize just how seriously the drug is affecting him until she goes on one of her rambles and he's too distracted by the light streaming through the window behind her to find it charming. He does pay attention when she gets a little feisty, however.

"Sounds like you need a Bloody Mary and a pretzel—not the IT Department," she says not entirely unkindly when he excuses his appearance on a hangover.

"Actually, my buddy Kevin is starting an energy drink company. He says it's fantastic for curing hangovers, but I am very particular about what it is I put in my body..."

"I've noticed," she interrupts and the way she says it, low and evocative, as she runs her eyes up and down his form, has a distinctly personal flavor. Like she thinks of him as more than just the arrogant billionaire who comes to lie to her every once in a while. Her body tenses immediately and she shuts her eyes, mortified. "I said 'not noticed,' right?" She looks to Diggle for assurance, but gets none. Oliver tries to continue his lie (he really does fear the drug will do permanent damage even if he won't admit that to Diggle), but he can't get past her slip because it only gets more amusing the more he thinks about it.

He eventually does and once he hands her the Vertigo, she seems recovered, looking mortified on Oliver's behalf when the only excuse he can come up as to why the alleged energy drink is in a syringe is that he "ran out of sports bottles." Diggle is kind enough to make a beeline for the elevator at that one and Felicity gives him her usual disappointed teacher look before leaving as well.

"Your BS stories are getting worse," Diggle chides when Oliver steps into the elevator.

"Well aware," he responds. Lying to get Felicity to dig up information is growing tiresome and it's not the first time he's thought it would be much easier if she were in the loop too. But she's not like them. She's never had to come to terms with violence to stay alive like they have. She's just some IT girl who's lived her whole life in Starling City and grew up with eccentric, if normal parents who teach at a local high school. He can't put her in danger just because it would facilitate his illegal activities. Still, it would be nice not to see that annoyed, disappointed look on her face every time he needed a little information.

And he realizes later that maybe he's underestimating her. When she asks him to meet her at Big Belly Burger that night, she's clearly nervous when she arrives. He tries to make her comfortable by brushing off her question about whether she can trust him and then apologizes when he sees that she's serious and doesn't find playboy Oliver cute right now. He doesn't know what he expects her to say, but he certainly never imagined she would pull a less battered copy of his father's notebook from her purse, the sinister item looking so out of place in her small, feminine hands.

All the playfulness is suddenly gone from the conversation and he's struggling to make sure she doesn't see how upset the notebook makes him. Clearly he fails, though, judging by the surprised and concerned way she asks if he's ever seen it before. He can't bring himself to look at her when he denies it because she's too good at knowing when he's lying. Finally, he feels composed enough, but the look on her face–probing and worried–and the way his voice shakes when he asks where she got it aren't as convincing as he needs them to be. But he's sure that's nothing compared to his reaction when she says that Walter suspected the notebook belonged to Moira Queen. He feels the Hood replacing the affable, vapid Oliver Queen as that news sinks in and the edge of fear that creeps into the intense interest in Felicity's eyes tells him it's written all over his features. He has to get out of here, has to get away from Felicity's piercing intellect and try to come to terms with the horrible sense of betrayal that's clouding his mind.

"Thank you for bringing this to me," he says softly and stands.

"Sure," Felicity says and takes a step back. Her lips are parted like she wants to ask more questions, but doesn't know which one to ask first. She places a hand on Oliver's forearm and starts with, "Are you going to be ok, Mr. Queen?"

"Yes, and please call me Oliver," he says with a genuine smile. "Are you going to be ok getting home?" he asks, suddenly noticing how deserted the streets are because of the rain.

"Oh, I just live a few blocks away," Felicity replies, "plus I have to wait for my food." She gestures at the counter and smiles. "I'll just bash any attackers with my Deluxe Big Belly and fries and that should knock them out cold. That's pretty much how I feel after I eat it."

"Ok," he says and chuckles just a little. He steps around her, nearly sprinting out of the restaurant toward his car and when he slams his door shut, his breath is labored more from rage than the movement. His mind is racing too fast for him to do anything but grip the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles start to ache. The sight of Felicity leaving the restaurant is what finally snaps him out of it. She's swinging a bag of food bigger than her head at her side and whistling a melody Oliver doesn't know as she walks down the street. She looks as if she's strolling through a field of daisies instead of down the dreary streets of Starling City and it makes her look just a little too vulnerable. So he decides to follow her, just in case.

After a few blocks, she climbs the stoop of a small, older looking building and he parks on the opposite corner to watch as she presses the call button and waits as somebody buzzes her in. Odd, Oliver was sure she lived alone; at least, Felicity Smoak was the only name on the lease for apartment 4C when he checked. Though now it seems silly that he assumed that huge bag of food was all for her considering she's about a third his size. Maybe she's got a subletter or has a friend over, maybe even a boyfriend. If it's the latter, Oliver isn't sure the guy's worth her time if he let her pick up and pay for the food while he sat on the couch watching TV. He's just thinking that maybe he should climb the fire escape to get a look at this jackass when the sound of his car door opening surprises him. When did he even take his hands off the wheel? He shakes his head a little and reminds himself that who Felicity shares dinner with is none of his business; he's got a bigger problem in the form of a tiny notebook.

* * *

Nothing should really surprise Oliver anymore. The last five years of his life have been filled with one improbable event after another. Still, dying from a gunshot inflicted by his own mother seemed more than improbable, more like impossible. Yet here he is, quickly bleeding out as he scales down the side of Queen Consolidated.

He finally hits the ground just outside the entrance to the building's underground parking lot and immediately stumbles onto the concrete. No way could he building hop back to his father's abandoned factory in this state. He could try stealing a vehicle, but at this rate, he'll end up passing out from blood loss and crashing it before he gets too far. Calling Diggle won't work either; he'll probably slip into a coma before his partner can drive all the way over and get him back to the factory. The sound of police sirens reminds him that he's a little conspicuous laying in the middle of the sidewalk dressed as the Hood, so he painstakingly pushes himself off the ground and stumbles toward the garage, leaning on the wall just inside when his vision starts blurring.

At least it's late enough that nobody is likely to find him down here. There are only a few cars left, including a little red Mini Cooper he's pretty sure belongs to one Felicity Smoak. Well, there's an option, he thinks—he could break into her car. Worst case scenario, he has somewhere to hide from the cops and can bleed out peacefully. Best case scenario, she finds him back there and drives him to Diggle. He checks his watch and reads 6:53. She'll be off work any minute so he has to decide now if he can trust her.

The question it really comes down to is whether she'll turn him in. It's the same thing he asked himself before he told Diggle his secret. That was probably a much bigger risk, really. He'd been antagonizing him for weeks and Diggle definitely didn't trust him then. He's at least already got that from Felicity. And she's seen a hell of a lot more suspicious activity from him than Diggle did. Plus, she's too smart not to figure it out eventually. Showing up in the back seat of her car will just make all the links she's probably already intuited. He doesn't want to potentially put her in danger, but it doesn't seem like he has another option.

He gathers his strength and pushes off the wall toward her car, using the last of his energy to disable the alarm and pick the lock on the door before flopping down on the back seat. Staying conscious is getting more difficult by the minute, but thankfully, it's not long before he hears the sound of heels echoing around the structure. She climbs in without noticing him and once she shuts the door, he makes himself known. Her reaction would make him laugh under different circumstances.

"I'm not gonna hurt you Felicity," he manages to pant out through the pain.

"How do you know my name?" she asks, a little scared.

"Because you know my name," he responds and removes his hood. Recognition and surprise wash over her face.

"Mr...Oliver. Oh, wow, everything about you just became so unbelievably clear." At least his lying was good enough to hide that, he thinks. "You're bleeding," she adds, seemingly having gathered her thoughts and realized the gravity of the situation.

"I don't need to be told that," he says

"You need a hospital," she counters and turns to drive.

"Wait," he chokes out, "my father's old factory in the Glades."

"No, you need a doctor, not a steel worker," she argues.

"Felicity, you have to promise me that you are gonna take me to my father's factory and nowhere else."

"Yeah, promise," she says and Oliver has complete trust that she's not lying. He lays back down on the seat as she starts the car. "Something tells me blood stains are not covered under my lease," she says as she backs out of the parking spot.

"I'll pay you back," Oliver replies.

"Don't think I won't hold you to that just because you're mortally wounded," she says over her shoulder as she pulls into traffic. "Where exactly is this place anyway?"

"400 Grand Avenue at 33rd St. Pull around the back." They continue to drive, but Oliver has no idea how long as he slips closer and closer to unconsciousness. The street lights flashing overhead and the sound of Felicity's anxious voice as she curses at other drivers are the only things keeping him awake.

Finally, the car comes to a stop and Felicity flies out of her seat and quickly wrenches open his door. He manages to pull himself into a sitting position, but he's too weak to stand. Without hesitating, she drapes his arm around her shoulders and tries to help lift him into a standing position, but he's too heavy and all they manage to do is get his blood all over the front of her shirt.

"Wow, I need to work out more," she says under her breath after she sets him down against the seat of the car. He reaches into his pocket and hands her a set of keys.

"The big silver one opens that door," he says with a half-hearted point. "There's a door with a keypad hidden in a short corridor about ten feet down the hall. The code is 141. My bodyguard Diggle should be waiting down there, he'll know what to do."

"Ok," she says and sprints to the door. After a few moments of fumbling with the keys and a few choice words, she gets the door open and yells, "I'll be right back, don't die!" before disappearing down the hall.

"Ok," Oliver calls out and then chuckles to himself. His last thought before his vision goes dark is that he hopes he's not lying to her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Planning to continue for at least two more chapters to cover through the end of season 1 and beyond. Would love some feedback.


	2. Secret Agents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry this chapter took so long, but boy these two spent a lot of time together in the latter half of the season. I hope you don't mind that I indulged myself and basically wrote a novella here. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for the kind comments thus far and PLEASE keep them coming.
> 
> I have a chapter to write for another ongoing fic first and then I'll post the final chapter of this in what will hopefully be a shorter wait than last time.

The first thing Oliver becomes conscious of is the pain. His whole body aches in a way he knows too well. He'd been close to death more than once on the island and he knows the hardest thing about cheating death is willing yourself to keep going when you wake up. His eyelids flutter open and the dark interior of the foundry comes into focus. Looks like trusting Felicity was a good bet. He hears her heels clicking toward him and he turns his head to see her and Diggle standing over him, the former looking worried and the latter already looking like he's got a lecture ready. There will be time for that later, right now he'd like to focus on something that _doesn't_ make him wish the wound had been fatal.

"I guess I didn't die," he says weakly before adding, "again," for Diggle’s benefit. His trusty bodyguard rolls his eyes and walks away, but Felicity smiles and draws closer. “Cool,” he adds unconvincingly and turns his head to look up at the ceiling. When he pushes himself up, he can't stop from grunting at the pain that shoots down his left side, but then Felicity's hands are on his back–supporting him–and all he can feel is gratitude. That and how warm her palms are against his skin, which makes him realize, first, how cold it is down here and, second, that he's kind of half-naked. Though that realization is more due to the way Felicity absentmindedly chews on her bottom lip and stares at his abs when he swings his legs off the side of the table to face her. She catches herself, though, when Diggle hands Oliver a blanket and the view is suddenly gone. She shakes her head a bit and blushes when she sees Oliver might have noticed.

He can't tease her about it because Felicity immediately turns around and heads for the computers, which, now that he looks at them, seem to have been rearranged. Just making herself right at home, he thinks and smiles. Diggle interrupts his thoughts then, handing him a mirror and telling him that he did the best he could to sew up the wound, but it will probably leave a pretty nasty scar anyway. It’s really not that bad and when he ribs Diggle about how he’s supposed to explain this one, he fires something back about a hickey gone wrong that feels like kind of a low blow considering.

“The police collected a sample of your blood at Queen Consolidated,” Felicity’s voice rings out. “I just hacked the crime lab and ordered the sample destroyed,” she explains before adding a self-satisfied, “Oops!” She spins around in her chair looking a little smug until she sees Oliver standing behind her, eyeing her warily. “I hope it’s alright,” she says and stands. “Your system looked like it was from the ‘80s—and not the good part of the ‘80’s like Madonna and leg warmers.” She says this last part with a little dance move and a point down to her shoes that Oliver can’t help but find adorable.

“That’s a lot of work,” he responds. “Does that mean you’re in?” he asks, trying not to sound too confident even though he thinks that’s exactly what it means.

"You mean, as in I'm going to join your crusade," she says playfully and gestures to the rest of the lair.

"Well, you're practically an honorary member of the team already," he responds, unable to hide his amusement.

"So Mr. Diggle said," she gives Digg a little nervous glance then and Oliver can't help but wonder what they've been saying to each other while he's been unconscious. Clearly they've already talked about whatever she's about to say. She purses her lips and speaks a firm, "No."

"Then why'd you upgrade my system?" Oliver shoots back a little roughly. He doesn't mean for it to sound so argumentative, but he's more disappointed than he thought he would be at her answer.

"First, because seeing a network that _poorly_ set up hurts me, in my soul," she explains, the teasing tone he knows so well returned. He's about to defend himself, saying that he thinks his system is pretty good thank-you-very-much considering he was stranded on an island for five years, but then he hears Diggle clear his throat and she seems to remember her point.

"And second, I want to find Walter," she finishes.

"My stepfather," he says, genuinely surprised, but also incredibly appreciative that she cares.

"He was nice to me," she adds so quiet and sad that Oliver wonders what could have happened to her that so small a thing would mean so much. "And Mr. Diggle told me the notebook that you use to fight crime is the same notebook that got Walter abducted," she quickly adds and he can't help but send Diggle a disapproving glance. It would have been nice to be a step ahead of her for once. "I'll help you rescue him, but that's it," she says adamantly. "Then I want to go back to my boring life of being an IT girl," she says and gestures to the computers. She fixes her glasses when she turns back and adds, "That's my offer."

"Ok," he says softly. He wants more, but he'll take whatever she's willing to offer because she’s invaluable to the work.

"So I've been meaning to ask," she starts in a less serious tone and Oliver prepares himself. "Is there a bathroom? Because I've had to pee since I got here." He laughs.

"It's upstairs to the left," he replies and she rushes past him, but he wasn't quite finished.

"Felicity," he calls out and turns just a little too fast for his body. She turns back, confused and sort of jumps back when he reaches out his hand, staring down at it a moment as if touching him means something to her other than sealing their agreement. Her grip is firm even if her hand feels so small in his. "Thank you," he says sincerely.

"Yeah," she whispers and smiles, but then she seems to remember they're touching and pulls away quickly. She self-consciously moves to touch her hair then stops mid-movement before crossing her arms and staring at the floor as she heads up the stairs. Diggle's waits until she’s out of hearing distance before beginning his lecture.

"Oliver, I know you don't want to hurt this girl," he starts, "and you didn't have any choice in telling her who you were, but we're asking her to get involved in some pretty dangerous stuff."

"We can protect her," Oliver breaks in and surprises himself at how much of the vigilante he can hear in his voice.

"How?" he counters. "Your mother just shot you, Oliver, you can't even keep yourself safe."

He argues, but he knows he's avoiding the real problem. Just as he can’t entertain the idea that his mother is involved, he won't even acknowledge the possibility that making Felicity part of his crusade could bring her harm. He's strong enough to protect her.

* * *

But Diggle doesn't give up so easily. The next evening, they're in the basement and after a day filled with one public appearance after another, Oliver's body is tingling like a live wire it's so desperate for activity. Of course that's when Diggle thinks they should finish their conversation—and when they're sparring no less. He starts with Oliver’s mother, but realizes he'll get nowhere with that one when Oliver throws him down on the mat harder than is strictly necessary.

"Oliver," he starts as they circle each other, "I think we need to reconsider letting Felicity get involved in what we do."

"She's already involved," Oliver replies, jabbing at Diggle and missing.

"Doing a little internet research isn’t the same as being an accessory to murder," he says and grazes Oliver's shoulder with his fist. "The closer she gets to the action, the more danger she’ll be in."

“I told you, we can protect her,” Oliver fires back and lands a kick to Diggle’s side, but the latter grabs his leg and swings him to the ground.

"You can’t guarantee that,” he replies, struggling to hold Oliver down, “and even if we can, do you really think she's going to be ok with you killing every person in your father's book?" Oliver knees him in the stomach then and Diggle's grip loosens just enough for him to wriggle out of it.

"You made peace with it," he says as they begin to circle each other again.

"Yeah, but I was a soldier first, Oliver, not some IT girl fresh out of college," he replies and lunges. Oliver throws his arm up to block, but Diggle changes direction at the last second and hits him square in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and easily forcing him to his knees. "She hasn’t seen you in full Hood mode," Diggle continues. "When she realizes how violent what we do is, it’ll scare her off." Oliver pushes himself up with a huff that’s almost a growl.

He starts to answer when the sounds of Felicity opening the door float down from above and he’s glad they'll have to table the discussion for now. Oliver takes off his shirt and makes his way toward the salmon ladder, now wanting to push his body even more.

Felicity notices the tension in the room, but she still seems a little too uncomfortable in the space to say something. They all set to work separately—Felicity tapping away at her keyboard, Diggle taking inventory, Oliver going through his usual exercise regimen. But it's not helping; Diggle's words keep running through his mind. The only thing that's going to calm him down is marking someone off the list. Diggle finds a roundabout way to tell him to calm down, but Oliver’s done with the lectures tonight. He break one of his sticks against the training apparatus. It's dramatic, but judging by the look on Felicity's face, it worked. She's not quite scared, more wary, like a small animal that spots a predator and stands tensed as it waits to see what the other animal will do. It's a look that hits a little too close to what Diggle said earlier and Oliver is even more desperate to get out of there.

He picks up his things and is about to rush out the door when something goes wrong. He's never entered the wrong code into the door lock before. When it fails a second time, he knows something else is going on.

He yells out Felicity's name and her whole body flinches at the sound. But he's too angry to feel bad about it when she admits to locking him in. She starts talking about how his target is a widower with a young child, but he can't understand why that would be important. He looks to Diggle in exasperation and when his bodyguard only rolls his eyes in return, Oliver realizes Digg was right. She's not ok with the killing, or "orphaning little kids" as she puts it, but she knew this was what he did and Oliver can't help but be frustrated with her.

"I’m just giving him a warning," he protests, but knows that wasn't his intention when he first tried to leave.

"Has it ever occurred to you, you could do some real good in this city beyond just recovering people’s stock portfolios and their saving accounts?" she accuses and he’s hurt by that. And it's not just the implication that he's a pampered rich boy who isn't helping the right people that stings, it's that he’s avoided thinking about that doesn't think he wants that kind of responsibility.

He moves toward her wordlessly, looming over her as he opens the door himself. He's reminded of what she said about Walter being nice to her as she shrinks back in her seat at his menacing tone and he realizes she's used to being bullied. That also means she knows how to fight back.

"I made a mistake," she says and shakes herself out of her timidity.

"Getting in my way?" he replies condescendingly. "I don’t disagree.”

"No," she snaps and edges toward him. He manages to hold his ground until she stands, whatever physical dominance he held fading quickly. "Signing on with you," she says more confidently and even manages to flip their roles by invading his space when she says, “even provisionally." Oliver can only manage to give Diggle a disbelieving look as she storms out and the shrug he gives in response is all he needs to get across the "I told you so."

Well, Diggle wasn't entirely right, he thinks as he turns toward the sound of Felicity slamming the door. She isn't scared of him, she's disgusted. That makes him feel much worse.

He goes after Williams anyway, but the fire's gone out of it. The crook pleads for his life on his son's behalf, so Oliver spares him. Not only because it reminds him of what his mother said the other night, but because he knows he's going to have to change things if he wants to keep Felicity on the team.

They go to her office early the next morning and she is not happy to see him.

"Hmm, I had a bet going with myself on how quickly you two would visit, tell me not to reveal your secret," she says curtly. "Looks like I won," she adds, none of her usual playfulness discernible in her tone. She sits at her desk looking fully prepared to ignore them, but Oliver decides to turn on his usual charm.

"Actually, Felicity, I was hoping that I could get you to change your mind" he says brightly. She purses her lips in that disapproving teacher look and he decides to take that as a good sign. "I was worked up on adrenaline last night and I didn’t exactly put my best foot forward. I was hoping you’d give me the opportunity to do that now," he knows he sounds a little too businesslike, but he wants to sound as amiable as possible.

"How about you start with Ken Williams?" she asks testily. "Did he also get to enjoy your adrenaline last night?" She asks it with a slow sweetness that feels more barbed than if she had just said it straight.

"No, he returned the money that he stole just in time to put his son to bed," Oliver replies and he's glad he's not lying for once. She says a little "oh" under her breath and while she still looks unconvinced, she at least looks a little less mad.

That’s when she's distracted by a broadcast with McKenna talking about a jewel thief called "The Dodger" who has a habit of blowing up hostages.

"It’s too bad his name’s not in your notebook," Felicity says sarcastically and Oliver sees his chance to get her back.

"You know, not all the people that I target are on the list," he says and hears himself laying it on a little too thick. "Every once in a while, I make an exception. Hostage taking jewel thief, for example. So why don’t you help us take him down?" He says the last part with a challenging tone, hoping the reminder of the days when they used to banter through his lies will remind her he isn't so bad.

"Fine," she says and nods. Just then, one of her coworkers walks in, the woman's eyes nearly falling out of her skull when she sees Oliver standing there.

"Thanks for your help, Ms. Smoak," Oliver says, trying to cover as the other woman trips on her chair because she's too busy gaping at him. "But I'm still not sure I can set up that home office all by myself. Do you think your supervisor would mind if I borrowed you for a bit?"

"I do have work to do here," she says sternly, clearly not open to him hijacking her morning, but that's the thing about owning a company, you get to tell the employees what to do.

"Oh, I'm sure he won't mind. I'll go have conversation with him and we'll come back for you in a minute." He turns to leave before she can protest and hears the other tech girl say, "oh. my. _GOD_ " as Felicity tries and fails to shush her.

Felicity's supervisor protests at first, saying something about needing her for a big project going into production, but he changes his mind when Oliver points out that it couldn't be that important considering he just got in a half hour after the start of official QC business hours.

When they go back to her office, Felicity's just pulling on her jacket. She grabs her bag and shares a loaded look with the other woman in the room before leading them out the door.

They head to Big Belly for their usual breakfast and Diggle's daily casual flirt with Carly. Felicity picks up on it within seconds.

"Well, looks like she’s hot for you," she says and nudges Diggle with her shoulder, winking and clicking her tongue in case he didn't get the message.

"Actually, Digg," Oliver says, "I was thinking, you probably should ask her out."

"Really?" he replies with a little edge, "I’ll do that just five minutes after you ask out McKenna." He never plays fair.

"Ooh, the detective on the Dodger case?" Felicity asks. "You have a thing for her?" she adds and her disinterest sounds a little too casual. He tries to deny it, because talking about it with Felicity feels awkward, but Diggle cuts him off.

"Yes," he says firmly and that at least seems to get her more involved in their little spat than the actual subject matter.

"I don’t see you asking Carly out," Oliver says coolly. After a moment of deliberation, Digg stands and Felicity watches him eagerly. Oliver starts back in on the subject of the Dodger and it takes her a few seconds to get back on track.

"I have an idea," she says and then finally turns away from Carly and Digg. "Your crush object with a badge said they were working with Interpol?"

"Yeah" he replies and has to struggle to not argue with her choice of the word "crush."

"Why don’t I work up a little tech? You distract her with a little flirty-flirt," he bristles at that, but she soldiers on. "Slip said tech onto her phone. It’ll turn into a micro-transmitter. Boom. We’ll learn everything she knows."

"It’s not how I typically get my information," he says after a moment.

"How do you typically do it?" she asks and he decides to ignore the slight mocking tone.

"I find the person and then I put the fear of God into them until they talk," he says simply and she raises her eyebrows at the crudeness of it. "But we can try your way."

"Gee, thanks," she says sarcastically and takes a sip of her coffee. She sets the cup down and unconsciously rubs her lips together to make sure her lipstick isn't smudged. Though Oliver thinks he's never seen another woman whose lipstick always stays so maddeningly perfect and bright.

"So what exactly do you mean by flirty-flirt?" he asks a little defensively and then leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. She tilts her head to the side and gives him her usual withering stare, though there’s more amusement than annoyance in it.

"You're kidding right?" she asks and looks surprised when he gives a helpless shrug. "Come on, you do it all the time," she continues and leans forward conspiratorially. “Don’t pretend it’s accidental. You swagger in all handsome billionaire playboy Oliver Queen and you’re all charming and carefree and then you smile and get exactly what you want.” She leans closer as she says it, her eyes narrowing accusingly and her voice getting sultry as she smirks at him.

"I never said I wasn't aware of it," Oliver replies a little smugly, "I just think all that work deserves a more dignified name."

"Hmm," she replies and play-acts contemplation by resting her chin on her knuckles and tapping her pointer finger against her fuchsia-tinted lips, which isn't helping Oliver's thinking process. She folds her hands together and rests her chin on them, giving Oliver a heavy-lidded look he can only describe as sexy. "How about Oliver Queen's Patented 'Aren't I Adorable?' Act?" Oliver laughs and shakes his head.

"I don't think anyone's ever called me 'adorable' before," he says teasingly and Felicity's cheeks flush a little.

"Well, for the record, I didn't," she counters. "You just pretend to be so people don't notice what you're really up to."

He's about to suggest they come up with a shorter title, but then Diggle returns and they both seem to realize how far they're both leaning over the table. Felicity's cheeks flush fully now and she suddenly seems very interested the contents of her coffee mug.

"So you two are all set for a date?" Oliver turns and asks.

"Yup," Diggle responds and tries to keep from grinning, "tonight at 7. Your turn now, buddy."

He makes good on the dare once they've stopped by Verdant so Felicity can make the device. He can't help but think of what she said as he gets genuinely flustered with McKenna and wonders if it qualifies as adorable.

He knows that's definitely not what his behavior during the date would be called. It's all going fine until dessert when McKenna brings up the island. He feels himself shutting down and he doesn't want to, but he can't stop. He's just not ready to talk about it. What he said to Thea before was true: he avoids people who knew him before the island because they always want to know the details.

His night gets worse when the Dodger escapes again. At least Diggle sympathizes. He finds his trusty bodyguard looking sullen and knows his date must have gone poorly as well. Felicity tries to lighten their mood, but gives up when Oliver turns the conversation to the Dodger again. They settle on luring him out at the Starling City Cancer Society Auction.

He asks Felicity if she wouldn't mind accompanying them into the field for this one and then sticks his foot directly into his mouth when he asks if she needs any money for proper formal attire for the event. She looks indignant for a second and then says she's got it covered. He feels like a total idiot as she walks away but he also wonders if the jab Digg made at her earlier about having no life might have been part of it.

When she appears at the auction the next night, Oliver thinks that surely they must live in an unjust world if Felicity is unwillingly spending her time alone. He’s always considered her attractive, but when she walks in wearing a curve-hugging gold mini-dress and her wavy hair cascading around her shoulders, he realizes he was mistaken. She is, in fact, beautiful. She smiles when she notices him and Diggle. Her pink lipstick is the only trace of her normal look, though it’s a slightly ruddier shade. Well, that and the phone she's using to track the bait, of course.

"Speaking of," she says, "have you given any thought to what might happen if this doesn’t work and the Dodger absconds with your family jewels?" He pauses at that, turning to give her a reasonable approximation of the look she always gives him when he says something stupid. She shakes her head and shuts her eyes in embarrassment.

"Sorry, that came out very wrong," she apologizes and Oliver can't help but smile at that considering he’s pretty sure her name actually means the ability to find the right words to express thoughts.

"Let’s just keep our eyes open, Felicity," he says with a bashful smile. She walks off and when Oliver turns to watch her go, he spots McKenna. He's not exaggerating when he says he'd rather come face-to-face with the Dodger right now than rehash their conversation.

That’s especially true when the whole plan goes south. He almost walks right past Felicity, but then she grabs his bicep and he doesn't understand why she looks so frightened until he sees the little lights blinking at her throat. Adrenaline shoots through him and he grabs her arm above the elbow without a word, leading her into an empty room. He lets go to help Diggle barricade the door and when they turn back toward her, she's backing away from them, terror written all over her face.

"Get away from me!" she yells shakily. "If this thing blows…" she doesn’t finish the thought though as she backs into a column. Diggle and Oliver ignore her warning, the former fumbling around trying to find a way to disarm the bomb and the latter steadying her and fixing her with a reassuring gaze.

“It’s not gonna happen,” he says firmly. “Alright, tracker’s on the move,” he says calmly, trying to make her focus. “If I can find him, I can get him to disarm it. Talk to me, Felicity.” She exhales and shuts her eyes, leaning back so Diggle can get a better look at the collar, but Oliver can see by the look on his face that he can't do anything.

He bolts for the door and leaves the party as quickly as possible without drawing attention. He puts his earpiece in and hears Felicity say the Dodger is in a vehicle. There’s a big guy just about to mount a motorcycle nearby and Olicwe knows that’s his best option. It’s not something he would usually do—punching out strangers and stealing their stuff while dressed as Oliver Queen isn’t exactly inconspicuous—but he doesn’t have time to be careful right now.

He weaves between cars, the beeping of the collar in his ear reminding him that Diggle was right. Felicity's first mission with the team and she’s in mortal danger, maybe this is too dangerous for her.

He takes a perverse pleasure in seeing the Dodger’s car flip through the air and land hard on the asphalt. When the little weasel crawls out, it takes every ounce of his control to stop himself from running at him in rage. If he makes one wrong move, Felicity’s dead. The jewel thief holds out the detonator and Oliver knows exactly what he has to do. He throws, severing the Dodger’s median nerve and tries not to think about how easily he could have missed.

“Now, tell me how to disarm this thing,” he says menacingly once the detonator is in hand. “And if my friend isn’t ok after, I will not turn you over to the cops. I’ll take you somewhere else so I can take my time killing you." The Dodger's eyes widen and he quickly gives Oliver the directions. For a second, he thinks he's been tricked as he hears the collar beep urgently through the earpiece. But then Felicity gasps out an “Oh thank God," and he breathes a sigh of relief.

Oliver waits until he sees the flash of police headlights before taking off. The man he knocked out to take the bike is right where he left him, pedestrians walk by without pausing, though it does seem someone stopped long enough to take the guy's wallet. Good ol' Starling City. He parks the bike next to him, hanging the helmet on the handle bar and placing the keys and all the money from his own wallet into the guy's pockets before returning to the auction.

When he gets back, he sees Diggle slipping out of the room, an odd, dazed expression on his face. He gives Oliver a pointed "I told you so," look when he notices him standing there.

"I know," Oliver says and throws up his hands in surrender. "I'll talk to her. You can head home."

He finds Felicity sitting atop a table when he walks in. Her eyes are closed and she's breathing deeply to calm herself, but even from across the room he can see how much she's shaking.

"Hey," he says softly and her eyes snap open.

"Hey," she replies unsteadily.

"So," he starts, "what did you do to Diggle?" She laughs and then places a hand over her eyes, cringing.

"He kept fussing over me and he was making me really anxious," she replies. "So I kinda yelled at him." Oliver's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Well, I think he got the message," he jokes, trying to coax her out of her fear.

"I used what my Mom calls my 'Loud Voice' on him. Apparently it's the way I sound when I want to show people I'm not messing around."

"I'll keep that in mind," Oliver says and they smile at each other for a few seconds, the usual rhythm of their conversation dissolving some of her tension. Her smile fades a bit and her forehead crinkles as she looks like she's deciding something.

"Thank you," she says quietly and places her hand on his forearm.

"Of course," he replies and places his hand over hers. He can see her eyes start to well up and she looks away, sliding her hand away and swiping it quickly under her eyes as she slides off the table and stands.

"Are you going to be ok getting home?" Oliver asks.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," she responds. "I took a taxi here because my car is still in the shop getting reupholstered."

"Oh, that's right," he says, a little ashamed that his decision to bring her into this world is literally invading every part of her life. "Add that to the cost of the fix too then."

"I'd much rather you pay for my legal representation when they turn it over to the cops as evidence of a murder," she replies with just a hint of her usual teasing tone. "You should have seen the look on the guy's face when I brought it in." He laughs and she smiles up at him.

"Let me drive you home," Oliver offers impulsively. She starts to argue, but he insists.

They sneak out through the back entrance because the paparazzi are out front and they would go crazy for a picture of Oliver Queen sneaking out of a cancer fundraiser early with a pretty blonde. It starts to rain as they leave, the streets glossy and deserted as the drizzle becomes heavier.

"How do you know where I live?" Felicity suddenly asks as Oliver turns the car in the direction of her building.

"You mentioned you lived near Big Belly when we were there," he replies, thankful that he doesn't have to reveal the much creepier truths of researching her after their first meeting and then actually following her home without her knowledge. But she still eyes him afterward, his answer just a little too fast.

"Felicity, about tonight," he says before she can pursue the matter. "I'm sorry about what happened."

"It's not your fault, Oliver," she insists, "I should have never confronted the Dodger after I saw him steal the broach."

"You did what?" Oliver says and maneuvers the car a little roughly as he changes lanes.

"Rookie mistake," she says defensively. "Won't happen again."

"Maybe there shouldn't be a next time," he says.

"What do you mean?" she asks, sounding a little hurt.

"I had no right to bring you into this, Felicity. I appreciate you helping me when I was injured and all the work you've done for us, but what Diggle and I do is dangerous and I'm not sure you should be involved." He tightens his hands on the wheel, bracing himself for her reaction.

"No," she says simply. He turns to her for a second confused and sees total determination on her face. "Oliver, from what I've seen of your network and the way you get information, there's no way you guys can keep doing this without me." He opens his mouth to argue, but she holds up a hand to silence him. "And I meant what I said. I want to help you find Walter."

"Felicity..." he starts, but she interrupts.

"Oliver, I appreciate your concern, but I'll decide if this all gets too dangerous," she says steadily and then sees he's unsure. "Listen, if it makes you more comfortable, I'll make you a deal. How about from now on I stay behind the computer screens? No more dressing up and going undercover?" Oliver sighs and gives in because she's right, he needs her.

"Deal," he says and she sighs in relief. She turns forward again watching the rain fall and they sit in silence for a few moments.

"So, I saw a certain Detective at the fundraiser," she says suddenly, "did you two get a chance to talk?" Oliver sighs and tries to look focused on driving.

"Come on," Felicity pleads.

"No," Oliver replies, sounding defeated, "but after our date, I don't think we'll be having any more."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, it's just that," Oliver pauses, trying to find the right words, "a lot of things happened on the island. I'm not sure I'm ready to share them yet or if I ever can." He glances over quickly and sees Felicity tilt her head in pity. "I'm a different person than when McKenna knew me and I'm not sure I can be with someone while I live a secret life." He pulls the car to a stop at the curb in front of Felicity's building and shuts off the engine; he keeps staring ahead, wrapped up in his thoughts until he suddenly feels the pressure of her hand resting on the crook of his elbow.

"Oliver," she says softly, "I didn't know you from before, but I've seen who you are now and if she prefers that party boy who was always in the tabloids, then she's missing out. You can't let what happened on the island ruin your life." She smiles at him then, small and encouraging as she squeezes his arm. She turns to collect her things and he continues to gaze at her, marveling at the way she's made him feel better when the whole point of driving her home was to make sure she was ok. He wonders then if she has anyone to keep her company tonight, to give her the comfort she's given him. For a moment, he considers asking, but then he can't think of a way to say it that doesn't sound like an insult or a come on.

"I'm guessing you don't have an umbrella in there," he says and gestures to the tiny clutch in her lap.

"Of course not," she smirks, "I'm not Mary Poppins."

"Wait there," he says and opens his door. He takes off his coat to canopy it over his head as he jogs around the car and opens her door. He reaches down to help her out and then brings her under the protection of his coat, his bicep resting lightly between her shoulders. Felicity laughs as they run to her door and bound up the steps of her building. Oliver lowers his arms once they reach the protection of her porch and they stand smiling at each other for a moment, like children who've been playing in the rain. Felicity thanks him again for the ride and then steps through the glass and wrought iron door. When she reaches the top of the first landing of stairs, she turns back and gives Oliver a little wave and a smile and then turns a corner, her hand on the railing the last thing Oliver sees before she disappears from view completely.

He doesn't bother running on his way back to the car. The sound of the rain and the emptiness of the street now make him a little melancholy and he realizes he doesn't want to be alone right now. His first thought is of climbing Felicity's fire escape and knocking on her window under the pretense of worrying about her. But then he doesn't know why that's a thought at all and he remembers what she said about McKenna. He starts the car and drives away, but not before looking up and seeing the lights come on in what he guesses is Felicity's apartment and smiling to himself.

* * *

Diggle is mostly fine with Felicity staying on the team, but he makes one demand: she has to be trained. Oliver agrees even if her hands are laughably dainty when she balls them into fists. Though he feels better knowing she has a chance to protect herself. He comes upon them one day after killing an assassin, which even then Felicity seems to have qualms about. He doesn't let her start in on him though, instead tasking her with hacking the guy's cell phone. She's completely attentive, her lips almost pouting in concentration, her lipstick _still_ perfect. It's only when he hands her the phone that he really sees her. The confident stance, the loose ponytail, the slight flush in her cheeks—not to mention that she's pretty fit for someone who sits in front of a computer all day. He starts to wonder if she works out when the memory that McKenna wanted to meet after hitting the gym that night crashes into his head. He announces the fact more as a command to get it together to himself than as something Felicity and Diggle need to know and then guiltily flees.

* * *

He starts to worry the moment Helena sees her, kicking himself for not remembering to warn Felicity to stay away. When he unexpectedly hears her offer to hack into the FBI, he almost gasps in shock. She gives him a confused look and points in Helena's direction, wondering who she is and he starts to panic when he sees Helena's whole body tense out of the corner of his eye.

He doesn't mean to yell and Felicity looks almost hurt when he does, but she seems to realize that the woman she doesn't know is dangerous as Diggle approaches her calmly. Oliver tries to sound less harsh when he explains this is a "private thing" so she doesn't worry and also because he doesn't want Helena to realize that she's a weak spot to be exploited. But he knows he's failed at that when Helena jealously suggests Felicity is one of his girlfriends. He tries to sound menacing as he ignores the jab, but he doesn't really expect her to do anything.

Which is why Felicity's phone call surprises him so much later. McKenna is in the bathroom and he's lying naked in her bed, relaxing and looking forward to spending the rest of the night there. He happens to glance down and sees the message light on his phone flashing. He stands and smiles when he sees a picture of Felicity on the screen and plays her message, listening absentmindedly as he folds his clothes. Until the sound of Helena's voice stops him cold. The last sounds he hears before the line goes dead are Helena locking the door to Felicity's office and the latter trying to reason with the former. He pulls on his clothes and says something about forgetting about an important business dinner to McKenna. She looks unsure, like she thinks he's just being a cad, but he assures her he wants to see her again. Given what happens later, he eventually wishes he'd said something about ignoring any work calls of her own.

When he first bursts into Felicity's office, he feels genuine terror when it appears Helena might have taken Felicity. But then she calls out his name and he almost laughs with relief when he sees the toes of her panda flats sticking out from behind her desk. He runs to her and the sight of her hands and feet bound is upsetting enough, but it's the blindfold that fills him with guilt. The binds would have been enough to keep Felicity in that room, but Helena wanted to frighten her as much as possible just to remind Oliver how dangerous she is.

"I'm here," he says comfortingly as he cuts the bands around her wrists and ankles. He reaches out and cups the side of her face as she sits up. Her expression is so full of relief and happiness at seeing him, but all he can feel is shame as he notices the mascara running down her face from her tears. She reaches a hand out and nearly mirrors his position, but stops herself at the last second and tightly grips the outside of his hand instead. He's about to start apologizing for getting her involved in this whole mess when the sound of someone running into the room causes him to reflexively jump into a defensive position to protect Felicity before he even consciously thinks about what he's doing. It's only Diggle, but he's so filled with anger at Helena by this point that it takes his body a moment to relax.

"She wanted the address of the safe house where her father's being kept," Felicity explains, her voice still thick with emotion in a way that actually causes Oliver physical pain. He wants to tell her how relieved he is she's safe then, how sorry he is that this happened, but she keeps talking. "She made me hack the FBI database," she says, but it's when she adds, "Sorry Oliver," her tone just a little ashamed, that his guilt threatens to crush him. His mind is suddenly filled with all the horrible ways Helena could have "made" her do what she wanted, but it's the implication that he could possibly be disappointed for Felicity giving in that hurts him most.

"Hey," he says and reaches out to grasp her arm reassuringly, "it's not your fault." She places her hand on his arm, a look of gratitude on her face. It's then he knows that he needs to find a more permanent solution to Helena. If she can be so cruel to someone so kind, then the girl he cared for is gone.

That's something she proves during their fight later. It's horrifying enough that Helena would shoot a cop, but the situation becomes a nightmare when he sees that it's McKenna. She's passed out and losing blood when he reaches her. He starts to pick her up when he hears the police sirens approaching fast. He knows that if the cops find him with her, they'll arrest him immediately even if they do believe he wasn't the one to shoot her. So, he's forced to leave her there and pray the paramedics can save her. He's filled with self-loathing as he drives away from the scene, knowing that if he had killed Helena in the first place, none of this would have happened.

He gets back to Verdant and changes back into his street clothes, but even then he can't rush to the hospital because it would look suspicious. Instead, he paces around with only his guilt as company until his cell phone rings and Detective Lance regretfully informs him that McKenna's been shot and is in surgery right now. He speeds to the hospital, but he's not allowed to see her when he arrives so he's forced to pace there. It's then that he gets a call from Felicity.

"Hey," she says when he answers, "I heard about Detective Hall on the news. Is she going to be alright?"

"I don't know," he says hollowly. "The doctors say she's still in critical condition."

"Oh, Oliver, I'm so sorry," she responds. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he lies. "How are you doing?"

"I'm ok," she replies a little more convincingly. "Diggle brought me home."

"I'm so sorry about what happened today," Oliver says sincerely. "I never should have trusted Helena. I understand if you don't want to keep working with us."

"Oliver, stop," she says firmly, but not angrily. "You are not responsible for what that woman does. Stop beating yourself up and think about McKenna. She's going to need you when she wakes up."

"Ok," he says and grips the phone tighter. After they hang up, he shuts his eyes and tries to draw strength from her words. Later, he's pretty sure that strength is the only thing that holds him together as McKenna tells him she won't, in fact, need him.

* * *

After that he throws himself into marking people off the list. When Felicity asks him how he's doing about the whole McKenna thing, Oliver declares he's decided that as long as he's going to continue doing what his father asked of him, there will be no more romantic entanglements. She and Diggle share a look, but they don't berate him about it—which he appreciates.

He's working out one day, doing pull-ups from the ceiling of Verdant when the report about John Nicol comes on. The guy's a scumbag and when Felicity tries to give him the benefit of the doubt, Oliver drops one hand so he can look at her while he speaks and finds her face already upturned. It's not the first time he's caught her watching him work out (and maybe she only just turned at the sound of his voice even if her color is a bit high) but it still strokes his vanity. He tells himself he isn’t going without a shirt more often–that the choice isn’t performative–but then he can't really explain why he decided to do this particular exercise on a pipe above her desk instead of on all the expensive exercise equipment.

He drops down and approaches her, softly asking if she's ok with him killing Nicol. It's become part if his routine because there've been quite a few arguments and a few near walk-outs in the past few weeks. So, he likes to at least let her make a case now. It doesn't necessarily change his mind, but he always feels a little more confident when he gets her approval—not that he tells her that.

But it doesn't matter. Someone else has already gotten to Nicol when he arrives and that seriously irks him. He returns to Verdant determined to find Nicol, but it's then that Felicity suddenly seems uncomfortable. She looks like she wants to say something, but then shares this glance with Diggle that really annoys Oliver. Like he's their petulant child or something and she doesn't want to bother.

"What?!" he yells.

"Nothing!" she yells back, frustrated. "It's just...you went over there to be all 'Grr, stop being bad or I'll arrow you' and now you want to rescue him?"

"I don't like the idea that somebody dangerous is out there," he replies, which garners a sarcastic look. He sighs, she doesn't give an inch. "Somebody else," he adds, but knows that's only part of it. He _needed_ to mark someone off the list tonight. McKenna's sister finally picked up the rest of her things today, so now he can't even hope. He walks off to the sound of Felicity sighing her disapproval and flips through the pages of the notebook to find another target. Of course that's when Diggle finally chimes in, insisting they go to dinner instead. Which is really just code for a lecture.

Though when it starts, he's surprised it's about his love life, or deliberate lack their of. It's simple: he's a danger to people. Sarah and Laurel were just the first, McKenna and Helena are the natural escalation now that he's a vigilante. It's damage control. For now, the hood is enough.

And so what if Diggle's right about him still acting like he's on the island? He had two companions there too and look how that turned out. He ended up alone and betrayed. The only person he knows he can trust completely is himself. Diggle and Felicity have never been fully comfortable with what he does, they might leave at any time. Keeping them at arm's length is just more damage control.

That train of thought already has him angry when Felicity sends them the video feed of Nicol bound and gagged by his kidnapper. He commands her to find him and the edge of fear in her voice when she responds somehow annoys him. And watching Nicol die doesn't improve things. He tells Felicity to find out as much as he can and then goes home and works off his frustration by pacing into the wee hours.

He's calmed down by the time he gets to Verdant the next morning and finds Felicity already there. He feels a guilty twinge that she's spending her Saturday morning searching for a kidnapper, but clearly whatever aggravation he was feeling has now transferred to her because her response to his benign suggestion is so sharp that he unconsciously pulls back like he's been slapped.

Diggle appears then, saying his NSA contact pegged the kidnapper as a resident of the Glades, but then the video feed goes live again and the pressure is on. The kidnapper has ADA Carnahan and gives him ten minutes to live. The guy at least drops a detail about a dead wife that allows Felicity to find his name, but Oliver needs more if he's going to stop him. For the next few minutes, the only sounds are the tapping of her keyboard and his increasingly frantic pacing.

She eventually gets a lock on his location and Oliver is out the door in a flash, un-hooded because he wants to be inconspicuous. Though as he smashes through every door in the abandoned building Felicity directs him to, he considers that he's probably failing at that. He kicks through a door expecting another empty room and is shocked to find himself on the roof. But even more shocking is the realization that follows immediately after: that Felicity might have gotten it wrong.

"He's not here, Felicity!" he bellows.

"What?!" she yells through the earpiece.

"I searched every office on every floor. He's not here!" he yells, unable to control his rage and anxiety that they're running out of time. "Is this the right place? Are you _sure_?!" he insists, pushing her to focus and deliver.

"Yeah, I.... Oh crap! How is this possible? This can't happen! He's..." But she stops, clearly panicked and overwhelmed at the worst possible time.

"Talk to me!" he demands. She does, giving him a new location and he's thankful he's been pushing himself so hard physically lately because the fastest way to get there is by rooftop. But it's all for nothing because there are just mounds of dirt and construction equipment when he gets there.

"How is this possible?" she says, terrified. "This can't happen. He's..." but she suddenly gasps as Oliver hears a muffled pop through the earpiece. There's a clattering sound and he yells her name again, but gets no answer until he hears Diggle's voice.

"Oliver, it's over," he says. "Carnahan's dead."

"Where's Felicity?" Oliver asks, annoyed that she isn't there to tell him what went wrong.

"She had to step away," Diggle answers and there's a hint of censure in his voice that Oliver doesn't understand.

It hits him when he gets back to Verdant though. He comes down the stairs ready to get back to work when he sees Felicity alone, leaning against a work table and looking down at a piece of cable in her hands.

"Where's Diggle?" he asks.

"I asked him to leave me alone...in my Loud Voice,"she responds, her attempt at humor failing because of how utterly miserable she sounds. And that's when he realizes he's screwed up, shutting his eyes as he silently punishes himself.

"This wasn't your fault," he says sincerely.

"I was the one who was supposed to find Carnahan and I was the one who sent you to that bogus location," she says, not looking at him. Her voice is so low and filled with guilt that it pains him to hear it. He knows that feeling well and worse, he's contributed to hers. Screaming at her, acting like he's the only one affected by what they do, pushing her and Diggle away while demanding they give everything to _his_ cause—he's created this an environment where her guilt might seem justified. "I've never seen anybody die," she says quietly and that's what devastates him most. Felicity's so competent and devoted that he forgets that she hasn't experienced warfare like Diggle or him.

"Hey," he starts, trying to sound encouraging. "This is the thing with what we do. Sometimes we lose." She finally looks at him then, her features the picture of devastation, and a wave of shame runs through him at the thought that he might have contributed to hurting someone who has never been anything but willing and lighthearted to him.

"Maybe it is better being alone," she suggests and goes back to nervously worrying at the cable in her hands. "I'm not seeing anyone currently, but if I were, I don't know how I'd tell them about today." Her voice wavers then and Oliver wants to disagree immediately. She's too good, too strong to resign herself to being alone, but how can he argue that when he's been living his life that way? Because despite what he's told himself, he knows that's the easy way out. He takes the piece of cable out of her hands then and leaves her with her thoughts, wishing he could find a way to comfort her.

When Oliver returns later that night, he finds Felicity and Diggle sitting around the computers and the sight actually comforts him. But it's the triumph in her voice when they figure out that the kidnapper is on a moving subway car and her skills weren’t at fault that makes him feel like everything's back to normal. Though his resolve is shaken again when the kidnapper equates their work. Oliver needs to believe there isn't any truth to it, but the comment about it being a lonely pursuit bothers him. Later, when he sees how happy Roy and Thea are to be together, the air seems to go out of the room because he's so jealous of it. He steps outside and there's Laurel and he can't help how much he misses her; so he reaches out and he feels better, but he knows he needs someone who knows about his other life too.

"Thea's friend is upstairs," Diggle says when he comes back downstairs.

"I saw," he replies, still a little annoyed he's just finding about this Roy kid.

"You probably saw that they were very happy to see each other,"Felicity says and turns in her chair. "If you know what I mean," she adds in suggestively. Oliver gives an exasperated sigh and Diggle looks at her in a way that makes him think they've been joking about it while he's away, which oddly pleases him. "Which you probably don't want to talk about because she's your baby sister," she says haltingly and awkwardly turns back to the computers in a way Oliver can't help but find endearing.

"You ok? Diggle asks.

"Getting there," he replies truthfully. "Thank you." He approaches Felicity then and his face softens. "Psst," he says and she turns. "By the way," he starts sincerely, "if you ever need to tell someone about your day? You can tell me." He gently places his hand on her shoulder then and she smiles appreciatively. He's just thinking this is the first time he's ever seen her with a hair out of place and it might actually be flattering when something on the screen catches his eye. He barely hears her soft thank you, registering it more as a puff of breath that ghosts across the back of his hand, because all he can see is the symbol from his father's notebook laid out perfectly in a street map of the Glades. Diggle explains that it's just something Felicity happened to pull up and he knows then how right he was to accept that he needs them.

* * *

Oliver's walking down the stairs of Verdant one afternoon when he hears it. It's not often that Felicity's had occasion to laugh while they're working in the basement, so when he hears the full laugh now–loud and joyful–it makes him smile. But it also intrigues him. He wonders what could be the cause and finds his answer when he reaches the bottom of the stairs and sees her and Tommy leaning against the bar, smiling at each other.

"Hey," Oliver says and they both turn to him.

"Well, there he is," Tommy says, sounding more like himself than he has in weeks. "The Mister Queen," he adds and puts a strange emphasis on the second word that causes Felicity to stifle a giggle.

"I see you two have met," Oliver says a little confused, clearly missing something.

"Yes, Ms. Smoak and I were just getting acquainted," he replies and gives Felicity a little wink.

"Well, we've got work to do downstairs, so you’ll have to continue that later,” Oliver replies coolly, a little jealous that he’s not in on the joke.

“It was nice meeting you, Tommy,” Felicity says and sticks out her hand.

“My pleasure, Felicity,” he responds and takes her hand in his. “If it ever gets too gloomy down there, you should come upstairs and say hello.”

“I will,” she replies and smiles. Tommy heads off in the direction of the office and Felicity falls in line next to Oliver.

“What were you two talking about?” he inquires casually.

“Oh nothing,” she replies, but she has that mischievous secret smile on her face that makes her dimples stand out and Oliver wonders because he’s certainly never made her laugh like that.

He thinks about it up until the police report comes in of a guy holding hostages at the Starling City Aquarium. He’s allegedly high on Vertigo, so Oliver grabs the medicinal herbs that served him so well on the island—which of course garners a sarcastic comment about “making tea” from Felicity. He inhales sharply ready to rebuff her and then rethinks that, remembering that he’s trying to be a little more kind when they’re working. He calmly explains himself and the slightly impressed look on her face gives him a tingle of pride.

“Then you aren't gonna...” she starts.

“What?” he asks.

“You know...” she says, and draws her hand across her throat in a slicing motion.

“My sister got high on this garbage, could've killed someone,” he says and tries not to remember how lost Thea seemed then. “She didn't deserve an arrow in the heart. This guy didn't fail the city, the city failed him. And so did I.” He looks up at her then and while she’s clearly analyzing him, her eyes are soft and concerned.

“What's happening now isn't your fault,” she says gently. “You didn't make him take drugs,” she adds, but he doesn’t want excuses.

“No,” he says sharply, “but I did fail to put the Count in a grave so deep that he couldn't come back and hurt anyone again.”

“You caught him,” she says encouragingly. “You locked him up.”

“And now the city is on fire!” he yells and he can actually see her shut down. Like she thinks it’s not worth arguing. He stands and turns, but immediately regrets his outburst because intellectually he knows she’s right. He turns back and she’s biting her lip waiting until he calms down. He asks her to call Diggle, his tone apologetic and he leaves with her looking resigned to not being heard.

But she's wrong about that. It’s what she says then that convinces him not to kill the Count later. He wants to know what she thinks, it’s just that he doesn’t always like to hear it.

* * *

Oliver’s reminded of that sentiment later when he chooses to save Laurel and Tommy rather than help Diggle kill Deadshot. To him the choice is obvious. A child is involved, Laurel and Tommy are in danger, his own home is at risk, Rasmus will never be prosecuted if he manages to leave the county, there's a whole team of NSA agents ready to take down Lawton. Diggle sees it differently and maybe he's right that any choice involving Laurel isn't really a choice at all. Either way, four agents are dead and Lawton got away, so he's not surprised when Diggle body checks him as he leaves. Felicity looks at him disapprovingly, but he's not sure he can stand to be berated more.

"Something to say, Felicity?" he asks, his tone a little threatening. He expects her to challenge him, so he's surprised when all she says is, “nothing you want to hear.” The look at him disdainfully, picks up the tray of medical supplies she was using on Diggle and walks away. And somehow her suggestion that he's too much of an ass to even listen stings more than if they'd gotten into a screaming match.

When he finds Diggle waiting downstairs at the usual time, he's thinks it means nothing has changed, but then Diggle quits and leaves and he's reminded of Slade. However, this time, he's culpable.

"Where’s he going?’ he hears Felicity ask behind him and he steels himself before answering.

"Diggle has decided he is no longer going to be working with us," he says flatly. Her eyebrows shoot up and her mouth drops open, but she recovers almost immediately and her face is suddenly the picture of fury.

"And you're just going to let that happen?" she asks accusingly.

"Felicity..." he starts, but she interrupts him again.

"Oliver, stop," she says and holds up a hand. "This is ridiculous. We need Diggle, so you..." but she stops as he steps forward into her personal space, glowering down at her. She doesn't step back though, her neck straightens so she can fix him with a hard look and he wonders for the thousandth time how someone so petite can be so immovable.

"Felicity," he says menacingly, "this isn't up for discussion. I'm going to train, so why don't you see if there's any new information on Walter." She doesn't give any sign of agreement, but he takes the fact that she doesn't storm out as acceptance and then steps around her so he can change into his workout clothes.

Eventually, he hears the clicking of her keyboard and it becomes the oddly comforting soundtrack to his movements. But he still knows that she's angry at him by the way she doesn't watch him and he finds something about that disappointing. He planned to push himself a little harder tonight, but his heart's not in it and he doesn't think marking someone off the list will help either. He showers up and is midway through getting dressed when he realizes he's hungry. Diggle and Felicity always order take out and they usually save him a little, but this time there's no little container waiting on the edge of Felicity's desk when he walks over. She gives only a curt nod when he says she can go home for the night. Clearly, her anger hasn't abated and he knows he's got to extend an olive branch or she'll be out the door next.

"Felicity?" he says softly.

"Hmm?" she replies, still staring at her screens.

"Any interest in grabbing dinner?" he asks and she finally turns with a look on her face he can't quite classify.

"Sure," she says, her voice sounding a little distracted.

"How about that Italian place you guys order from sometimes?" She nods her agreement and stands to collect her coat and purse. They decide to walk because its only a few blocks away.

The air is still a little crisp for so late in the spring, but it feels pleasant after the stuffiness of the basement, so their pace is unhurried. The streets are quieter and lonelier than during the day, but the usual city sounds are still there and and are suffused, as they always are in the Glades, with the distant wail of sirens.

The restaurant is nearly empty when they arrive and they're led to a secluded booth with a nearly burnt out candle in the middle. The waiter gives Oliver a little wink before setting down the menus and walking away. It doesn't escape Felicity and she blushes a little. The waiter eventually returns and takes their order: chicken marsala for him and penne alla vodka for her, salads with the vinegary house dressing for both. Oliver attempts to ask Felicity about her day, but she mostly fiddles with her phone and only glances at  him to deliver curt, often one-word answers to his questions. The waiter returns to the table smiling then flinches when he takes in the scene. He sets two small salad bowls in front of them and then gives Oliver a sympathetic glance before walking away. As he watches Felicity aggressively shake an inordinate amount of parmesan cheese into her bowl, Oliver realizes that this is the least he's ever heard her speak and he knows that she won't be satisfied until she's said her piece.

"Felicity," he starts with a sigh, "is there a reason you're abusing that shaker?" She looks up, surprised and then lightly places the container down before fixing him with a glare. "Listen, there was nothing I could do to stop Diggle," he says. "He was determined to leave."

"That's not the problem, Oliver," she replies. "I just can't believe, after all he's done for you, that you would abandon him the one time he needed you." She stabs a forkful of salad and bites it off her fork, looking expectantly for his answer.

"I weighed the options and did what I thought was best," he replies and picks up the shaker. "A full team of NSA agents was ready to take down Lawton and take him into custody. Nobody was going to stop Rasmus from fleeing the country and I couldn't just let him get away with what he did, Felicity. I have to think about what’s best for the city." He slams down the shaker more forcefully then he means to and then stares at her. She places her fork down and then gives him that teacher look he can't believe he once found sort of endearing considering how infuriating he finds it now.

"That is straight bull shit, Oliver," she replies evenly and his fork stops midway to his mouth. "You're telling me that you couldn't have called Detective Lance–or any cop for that matter–and told them about Rasmus? You _had_ to get him yourself?" He tries to interject, but she steamrolls right over him, her tone becoming more spiteful. "And even if that were true, you're telling me that getting some lowlife thug who probably won't be much of a danger to the people of this or any city once he's been separated from the resources he has here is more important than making absolutely sure that an internationally known assassin–whose killings _personally_ hurt one of the few friends you have–is caught?"

Oliver opens his mouth to defend himself, but the more he thinks about it, the less sure he is that he can. Lawton is far more dangerous than Rasmus, he's the more important catch.

"Obviously, you factored in something else besides the greater good," she says drily. "Was Diggle right?" she asks accusingly when he just stares down at his food. "Is this about Laurel?" Oliver's face hardens. He doesn't like to think it is, but he can't exactly deny it. "What is it about you and her?" Felicity demands angrily. "Explain to me why she is so important that you wouldn't help Diggle." He inhales, ready to argue, when the waiter suddenly appears with their main courses. He registers the tension between them in a second and his face crumbles with embarrassment; he practically throws down their plates before scurrying away in terror. Felicity picks up the parmesan again and starts shaking it violently before realizing what she's doing and moving it more gingerly. She sets it down and begins eating, clearly determined to ignore Oliver for the rest of the meal.

Well, this certainly hasn't gone the way he hoped. He runs his hand over his face in frustration because everything Felicity is saying is making him feel worse. He sighs and takes a bite of his food, resigning himself to what's coming.

"On the island," he starts softly, "one of the few things that survived the ship going down was this picture Laurel gave me right before I left." He looks up from his plate to see Felicity looking surprised, but also intrigued, so he continues. “I can’t even count all the times I thought I might die there or even how many times I...I thought I might want to.” He shifts uncomfortably, but he’s urged on by the kindness in her eyes. “But then I would look at that picture, at her gorgeous face, and I’d remember how much I wanted to see her again.” He stares down at his food, in the process of taking another bite when Felicity’s voice draws him out of his thoughts.

“Then why aren’t you with her?” she asks, but her tone isn’t argumentative, just compassionate. He takes a second to think, not because nothing comes to mind, but because so many reasons do.

“Because she moved on while I was gone,” he says with a shrug. “Tommy loves her and he’s good for her. And I wasn’t exactly the best boyfriend when we were together. While I spent five years wishing I could see her again, she was remembering me as the guy who cheated on her with her sister. And her sister died because of it.” He shakes his head slowly as he stares into space, almost forgetting Felicity’s there. “Even if there weren’t all that history,” he continues, barely above a whisper, “the list my father gave me puts everyone around me in danger. I wouldn’t want to put her at risk and I wouldn’t want to have to lie to her about it.”

“How do you know she doesn’t already suspect it?” Felicity suggests and Oliver jumps at the sound of her voice. “You’re not exactly the best liar,” she adds a lightheartedly and he’s so glad to hear that tone back in her voice that he cracks a smile.

“I doubt that, given the way Tommy reacted when he found out,” Oliver replies and goes back to eating. “You didn’t know me five years ago. Nobody who knew me then would ever think that guy could be the Hood.”

“A prophet is not without honor except in his own town,” she recites and then takes another bite. He smiles and they sit in silence a few moments, the tension nearly dissipated.

“I understand that,” she starts. “I was a bit of a loner as a kid," she says with a shrug that belies the tightness in her tone. "My dad was always tinkering. Sometimes he'd take me into his workshop and we'd take apart one of my toys just to figure how it worked. I loved that. It's why I started messing with computers. But my Mom's an English teacher, so she always made sure I spent just as much time reading. Not that I needed the encouragement." She pauses and smiles to herself for a second before continuing.

"I was used to entertaining myself, but that sort of thing didn't really translate well to making friends in school," she says. "I had these huge glasses and all this frizzy hair and these big buck teeth," she says affectionately. "Those other kids would pick on me like there was no tomorrow," she adds sadly. And suddenly Oliver can picture it perfectly.

Nerdy little Felicity, sitting in a corner of the playground with her nose buried in a book meant for a kid at least twice her age and perfectly content to create a world in her head. But then some mean little bastard (probably not unlike the arrogant monster Oliver was at that age) comes up and smacks the book out of her hand. He and his little friends taunt her for a bit, but she just picks up her book and finds her place again. And the little boy eventually gives up, feeling less powerful than when he started.

"It didn't stop in high school either, just got more mean-spirited" she says, her voice breaking into his reverie. "It's tough enough having your parents teaching your classes, but it's much worse when they accidentally call you Hoppyevery once in a while."

"Hoppy?" Oliver asks, amused.

"Like a rabbit," she explains. "It was the teeth," she adds and points to her mouth, which is when Oliver notices that her lipstick is no less vibrant than when they started their meal even if there are traces of it on her glass. "And I had a lot of energy. I was always jumping around and rambling at them."

"I can sympathize," Oliver says lightly and she narrows her eyes at him, but her smile doesn’t waver.

"Anyway," she continues, "it wasn't really until college that I got a clean slate, found some fellow geeks and became the woman who sits before you today." She gestures to herself in a sweeping motion. "Still, though, whenever I run into anyone who knew me before, especially from high school, they're always shocked. No matter how many years pass, they still see the girl they used to pick on."

"Well, if you need some rich arm candy for your 10-year, you have my number," Oliver suggests.

"I'll keep that in mind," she says bashfully, her cheeks coloring slightly to that shade Oliver always finds so fetching. The waiter returns at that moment to collect their plates, looking relieved that the conversation seems to have improved since his last visit. He offers them dessert menus, but the hour is late and Felicity wants to head home. She attempts to hand Oliver money for the bill, but he tells her not to be ridiculous.

They walk back to Verdant in comfortable silence. Oliver follows Felicity to her car, opening and shutting her door for her. She turns and smiles to him through the window and then gives a little wave before pulling away. He stares after her a few moments, hoping that he’s done enough to keep her from quitting too. At the very least because he was kind of serious about the reunion offer. Suddenly the image of the two of them slow-dancing in a high school gym pops into his mind. It makes him smile the rest of the night.

* * *

Felicity is kind enough to wait three whole days before bringing up the Diggle issue again. By then, Oliver’s admitted to himself that he made the wrong choice, but he’s still not ready to say that aloud. So, when she suggests he apologize, he’s glad he’s just dropped a very complicated laptop on her desk and can escape upstairs to deal with club business.

He avoids it most the next day too, but that's thanks to a little personal business. When Laurel asked to meet him at the club, he's not sure why until he finds her staring forlornly into a cup of coffee at the Verdant bar. He knows her well enough to notice that she's been crying, so he quotes _Casablanca_ not only because it seems particularly apt, but because he knows it's one of her favorites from all the times she forced him to watch it. But even that doesn't get much of a reaction, so the breakup with Tommy must have been pretty rough. He tries not to feel a little excited–he even encourages her to go talk to him–but he can't deny that some part of him hopes the differences are irreconcilable.

But then Felicity makes a typical entrance.

"Oliver, I need to show you what...," she starts, tone urgent, but then she notices Laurel and her body language gets timid. "I just totally walked in on a thing didn’t I?" she asks apologetically, gesturing awkwardly and making just about the silliest face Oliver's ever seen.

"I’m sorry, uh, who are you?" Laurel inquires and Oliver wonders why there's the slightest hint of combativeness in her tone.

"Nobody. I mean I’m not nobody. I’m someone, obviously," Felicity rambles disarmingly. "And so are you, you’re Laurel. Right?" She looks at him then, eyes full of meaning. "That Laurel? Gorgeous Laurel...?"

"This is Felicity," he interjects before she can go any further. Though he's not mad, her tone is encouraging and it gives him this unexpected sense of pride. He likes that Felicity approves of Laurel now considering she's been so sarcastic about her in the past.

“She’s setting up my internet,” he lies.

“Router,” Felicity finishes without missing a beat, but Laurel continues to look skeptical. “And I need to show Oliver something very important related to it.”

“I’ll let you go then,” she responds lowly, in that voice he’s always found sexy.

He follows Felicity downstairs and he’s a little annoyed about her interruption—until she points out that she’s found their first lead on Walter’s disappearance in months, that is. She sets to work, trying to trace the money for the kidnapping and finally lands on Dominic Alonzo, a scumbag who also runs an underground casino. Oliver groans at the very prospect of going there. They have to access his computer to find information on Walter without drawing attention, which might be easy if the place weren’t so heavily guarded. She takes the opportunity to bring up Diggle again, giving him a pointed look and pursing her lips, but he shuts that down, his voice uncompromising.

"Well then, looks like someone’s going gambling tonight," she says.

"Those guys would make me the minute that I walked in there," he replies. "Oliver Queen would never be caught dead in a place like that," he explains, exasperated how limiting his real life is.

"I wasn’t talking about you," she replies.

"Absolutely not," Oliver responds firmly. The memory of her first mission in the field still makes him cringe. And that was during a charity auction, who knows what could happen in an illegal casino full of criminals.

"I can count cards," she argues, raising her voice a little. "It’s all probability theory and mathematics," she continues and Oliver has to turn away because he can already see the determination in her eyes and he desperately needs to think of a way to keep her from going. "Have you met me?" she continues. "Bottom line, I know my way around a casino."

"Felicity, I’m not letting you walk..." he starts, his voice raised, but she stands and cuts him off with what must be a lesser but still impressive version of her Loud Voice.

"Oliver, the reason I joined you in the first place was to find Walter and for the first time we have a real chance at finding him," she says and fixes him with that intense glare of hers. "You have to let me do this," she finishes and he knows she's right. There are no other options.

"Alright, but we do it my way," he acquiesces and she nods and licks her lips like she can’t wait to get started. “Come on," he says and turns.

“If I can’t walk in there with you,” he says over his shoulder, “I at least want to be in direct communication at all times.” He picks up a little earpiece and hands it to her. “You’ll have to wear your hair down so nobody will see it.”

“Will do,” she says as she examines the equipment.

“I also want you to wear this,” he says and holds up a black tactical garter with a dagger stuck in the side. Her eyes widen.

“Um, you don’t really think I’ll need that, right?” she asks nervously. “Diggle never got to knife skills.”

“I doubt it,” Oliver replies. “But I’ll feel better if I know you’ve got a weapon on you.” She takes the garter from his hand and contemplates it. “I’ll pick you up from your apartment, say...around 8? Easier getaway. If something goes wrong, we take one car.”

“Ok,” she says absently. She’s taken the dagger out of its sheath to hold up to the light and Oliver finds the sight completely incongruous with the Felicity he’s used to seeing.

“How did you learn to count cards anyway,” he asks suddenly.

“Hmm?” she says and finally takes her eyes off the dagger. “Oh, when I was in college, I had a boyfriend who was obsessed with poker. He taught me one day and I automatically started basing my decisions on the probabilities. It wasn't until I'd taken all his money that he informed me I was cheating." She laughs and shakes her head. "Though I still don't understand how it qualifies. It's not my fault the average player isn't smart enough to do it too." Oliver smiles at that; of course she'd be a sore loser. "Anyway, I paid for most of my college expenses that way," she adds nonchalantly and Oliver's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Maybe she's a little edgier than he realized. Well, he has always thought that bar through her ear was a little rebellious compared to the rest of her attire.

Though he realizes later that he knows nothing about her sense of style. When he picks her up a few hours later, he expects the gold dress. So he's surprised to see her in a long red sheath and side-swept hair. He really does want to know how she affords all these designer duds—he's seen her salary after all.

They drive mostly in silence. Felicity fidgets in her seat, clearly a little nervous, and eventually reaches over to turn on the radio.

"You don't mind, do you?" she looks over apologetically.

"No," Oliver replies and shrugs. She searches for a second before settling on a pop station that plays mostly Top 40 stuff. Something with a heavy beat and what sounds like noise flows from the speakers. "What happened to music while I was gone?" he asks, hoping conversation will calm her nerves.

"Don't you own a club?" she asks blithely.

"That doesn't mean I endorse what we play in it," he replies and she chuckles.

"I don't know, I kind of like this stuff," she says lightly. "I always think of it like the result of the natural evolution of jazz. The rhythm and the improvisation are still there, buty they've just replaced instruments with computers."

"Ah, now there's the magic word," he says with a smirk. He sees her turn and smile at him.

"Ok, what kinds of music do you like, then, Mr. Club Owner?"

"Hmm," he replies, a little stumped. He hasn't listened to much since he got back. "I was pretty into Rihanna five years ago."

"Was that for her music or her body?" she inquires drily.

"Point taken. I hear Kanye West is still cool?" She nods and then reaches for the volume control as a new song starts.

"Speak of the devil," she says and makes the music louder. "Though this is him and Jay-Z."

"Who?" Oliver asks.

"Now I know you haven't been gone that long," she replies and she turns forward again, her body looking more relaxed.

They arrive a few songs later. Oliver parks in a nearby alley so no one will notice him getting out of a car in full Hood gear. Felicity's anxiety has returned full force judging by the way she's clutching her purse—and the rambling of course. He lets her expel some nervous energy up until the moment she wonders if she might get a bullet instead of a warning.

"Hey," he says softly, almost whispering, and grabs her arm so she'll turn to him. "You don’t have to do this," he says, concerned and kind.

"Yes, I do," she replies, determined.

"Ok. If anything happens, I’m right outside," he reassures her. She steadies herself and Oliver can't help but wish he could keep her from doing this. Watching her walk away is more difficult than he expects.

He climbs a fire escape across the street from the casino and watches Felicity approach it through a pair of binoculars. He notices the rather provocative slit in the back of her dress then and suddenly wonders if she's wearing the tactical garter. He lowers the binoculars slightly and tries to find the outline of it on her dress, but then realizes he's basically staring at her ass and brings them down almost shamefully quick.

"The password is snapdragon," he says to get his mind back on the mission. He hears her repeat the password and then breathe a sigh of relief. There's mostly silence for a few seconds and then he hears a door open and he can pick up on the faint sounds of spinning roulette wheels and the clattering of chips. Though Felicity's nervous breathing is the loudest sound.

"What do you see?" he asks, hoping talking will soothe her.

"Six armed guards, two pit bosses, and a floorman," she says calmly. She _does_ know her way around a casino. "And no slot machines. I mean, how do you call yourself a casino without any Lucky 7’s?"

"Stay focused, please," he replies a little harshly. Maybe he's a little nervous too. "I’ll be with you the entire time," he adds more gently.

"Thanks," she sighs. "It feels really good having you inside me." Oliver nearly drops his binoculars, fumbling a second as he comes to terms with what she just said. Felicity realizes immediately and he can hear the horror in her voice. "And by you I mean your voice, and by me I mean my ear," she clarifies. He can practically hear her spazzing; he wishes he could see it. "I’m going to stop talking, right now," she finishes.

"That would be my preference," he lies.

He hears her ask for chips then hears the normal sounds of gambling: cards shuffling, the click of chips. In this case they're punctuated by Felicity's little expressions of excitement and the occasional giggle.

"You’re pretty good," he hears a man's voice say flirtatiously. Real original, buddy, Oliver thinks and rolls his eyes.

"Thanks, I’ve had a little practice," Felicity responds, flirting back.

"Really?" the guy says, sounding pleased. "So it’s not just luck?"

"‘Fraid not," she says a little smugly.

"Too bad. I could use a little of that," the guy responds, his tone slightly lascivious. Oliver thinks the guy is luckier than he realizes considering that the binoculars aren't strong enough to let him get a look at his face for later.

Thankfully, the casino workers finally notice Felicity is cheating and Oliver shakes his head and smiles as she says something sassy to the man with the menacing voice who accosts her. Though her obvious way of tipping off Oliver to the casino's layout actually makes him laugh. He hears Alonzo try to intimidate her, but she ends up ruining that by knowing a little too much history.

"Felicity," Oliver says patiently, "I think he meant for that question to be rhetorical." She silences herself then and it seems she's going to make a clean getaway when Alonzo stops her.

"You see, the thing about card counters is," he says smoothly, "that sometimes they work with a partner." Oliver suddenly hears a crunching noise, then silence and knows she's been made. He jumps down the fire escape as quickly as he can, knowing the longer he takes, the more danger Felicity is in.

Usually he'd try to be a little more stealth about his entrance, but he wants Alonzo to know he's coming, make him afraid to hurt Felicity. He's so unnerved by the fact that he can't hear her anymore that he's a little rougher on the guards than he might usually be. Finally, he kicks down the door to Alonzo's office and as angry as he was a few seconds ago, he almost roars in rage at the sight of Felicity with a gun to her head. He would love to fire an arrow right into Alonzo, but they need information; so he ignores the terrified, pleading look on Felicity's face. And then he sees a solution. The arrow hits the dart board next to Alonzo's head and both he and Felicity look momentarily shocked.

"I heard you never miss," Alonzo says smugly. Oliver can't help but feel satisfied when the arrowhead explodes a second later and knocks him into the desk. But that all disappears when Alonzo claims Walter's dead. He refuses to believe it, but Alonzo's too coward to lie. He knocks him out, but even that doesn't lift his spirits. He turns to see Felicity, eyes brimming with tears and the reality of what he's just heard really hits him.

"Are you hurt?" he asks.

"I'm fine," she says and wipes away a few tears. He takes her by the hand and leads her out of the building, the act of taking care of her making it easier for him to not think about Walter. They don't speak at all as he drives back to her apartment; she's too busy quietly trying to compose herself. They both just sit there when he stops in front of her building, staring ahead sadly. She's the first to speak, as always.

"Well," she starts weakly, "what now?" He turns and cocks his head.

"What do you mean? I thought you were only working with me until we found Walter."

"Oliver," she says and the sudden pressure of her hand on his shoulder is so comforting that he sighs. "I told you I'd help you find Walter and just because...," she pauses and he sees the tears forming in her eyes, "that can't happen now doesn't mean we're done. The goal has just changed. We're going to find who did this." Her voice is sure and strong, but a tear escapes down her cheek anyway. Oliver reaches up and wipes it away with his thumb and then worries he's crossed a line until she smiles and leans into his hand slightly.

She turns away after a moment, releasing his shoulder and collecting her things. Oliver notices his palm feels cold now that her skin isn't against. She smiles at him again before climbing out of the car and he realizes too late that she didn't really answer his question. But he doesn't ask again because he really doesn't think he can get any more bad news tonight.

Which is why, when he finds out that Malcolm Merlyn and his own mother are behind Walter's disappearance, the reaction is more physical than emotional. He feels dizzy and nauseated, but somehow, he makes it onto the street and into his car. And he just starts to drive. He isn't thinking about where or why until he turns the corner and sees Felicity's building in the distance. He wonders why this is his destination until he realizes that she's the only one he can tell, who can help him do something about what he's just learned. He puts more pressure on the accelerator.

He's thankful there's a vacant lot across the street on one side of the building so there's no chance of somebody casually looking out their window to see the Hood climbing the fire escape of some random apartment building. He'd rather use the front door, but the sight of the Hood politely ringing a doorbell would be even more ridiculous.

After sneaking past windows of a man watching TV and one _very_ affectionate couple, he comes to a darkened bedroom. Oliver peers in and is just about to move on when he sees two little panda flats at the edge of the light shining in from the window. He turns his gaze to the bed and sees the outline of a woman's body under the covers, the blonde hair splayed on the pillows confirming it’s Felicity. She's lying on her side, turned away from him and he watches the steady rise and fall of her breathing for a second. His knuckles are about to hit the glass, when her body suddenly shifts and she starts to turn toward the window. It's the thought of Felicity's reaction to a dark figure looming at her bedroom window in the middle of the night that stops him. He dives out of view and suddenly wonders what the hell he was thinking. He has no right to be here. Felicity has done more than enough to help him tonight; the least he can do is let her sleep.

He goes to Verdant because it's the only place he knows where any lies are solely of his own making. He sits in total darkness against the beam nearest Felicity's desk; waiting he doesn't know how long for the moment she'll appear and help him find Walter.

That moment comes much sooner than he expects though. He hears the beep of the door and tenses until the sound of her heels clicking on the stairs fills the silence. She seems unsurprised to find him there and she mentions she's been awake this whole time thinking too. Should have knocked on that window, he thinks ruefully.

Oliver can almost hear Felicity's brain whir into overdrive when he tells her that Walter's alive. She clearly has questions and he wants to answer them, but now that she's here, he can feel the rage and the need to channel it into rescuing Walter suppress everything else. He's grateful when all he has to do is say her name and look at her and she knows how much he needs her to just do what he asks. Even if the effort to suppress her curiosity is written all over her features. She tracks Walter to a tenement building in Blüdhaven and he's glad he spent all that money on a parachute despite Diggle's protestations.

It's not until he tells her she can head home on his way out the door and she replies with a quiet, "ok," that it really registers that if he succeeds, this might be the last time they share this exchange.

"Felicity," he says and turns to her.

"Yes?" she replies and swivels her chair to look at him.

"Will you," he starts and pauses to steel himself for her answer, "will you still come back here tomorrow if I do rescue Walter tonight?" He sees the corners of her mouth turn up slightly, but there’s something a little private in her eyes.

"Of course," she says softly and he leaves.

He sees her much sooner than that though. He's just thinking that his mother's performative relief in Walter's hospital room is the most repellant thing he's ever seen when he suddenly hears Felicity's voice at the door.

"This is totally a family thing isn't it?" she asks and makes that goofy embarrassed face again.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" his mother asks in almost the same tone Laurel used before.

"This is Felicity," Oliver says and steps in to place a hand on her back. "She's my friend," he adds and he's shocked to realize that it's not a lie.

It's that as much as anything that convinces him to make an excuse to leave the hospital so he can see Diggle. Though Thea's insistent questions about who "that girl" was are also a factor. They're back to their usual rapport not too long after Oliver apologizes and he realizes how much he's missed it.

"I can't believe Felicity's a card sharp," Diggle says and takes a sip of beer.

"I know," Oliver replies and does the same. "Oh Digg, you should have heard the Freudian slip she let loose this time." He leans forward eagerly. "It was unbelievable." Diggle guffaws for a full minute when he hears it.

"That girl is something else," he finally manages to gasp out through his laughter.

"She really is," Oliver agrees.

* * *

It's that exact sentiment that makes the things that stump her that much more surprising. After hours of trying, Felicity's clearly frustrated with trying to hack into Merlyn Global's mainframe. Something only confirmed by the way she talks to him like a teacher dealing with an irrational child when he suggest they break into corporate headquarters. But his impulse ends up being right and her excitement about going into the field again is even more evident than her annoyance was.

Though he thinks she's going a bit overboard later when she plops the bag of food heavily on the reception desk at MGHQ and asks if Mr. Andrews aka Diggle is a good tipper. He says as much with his eyes as he walks toward the elevator. He avoids stepping into one until she joins him, pretending he's on a call that he's afraid to lose. They manage to get one to themselves, but then some guy sticks a hand between the doors and makes it despite the way Felicity is attacking the close button. Oliver's willing to let him ride up a few floors up until the moment he turns to Felicity and with a wolf-like grin condescendingly asks, "Where you headin', Sweetie?" He can't help but click his tongue in disapproval and then he sees how loosely the guy is holding a stack of files. He very much enjoys watching him scramble on the floor to collect his papers as the elevator doors slide shut.

Unfortunately, they run into another hurdle when Diggle can only get the car to go as high as 24. Once again, Oliver's glad he spent the extra money despite his partner's arguments. Diggle only grunts in response when he says as much. Oliver easily climbs onto the roof of the car and just as easily lifts Felicity's up with him.

"Don't look down," he says.

"Too late," she replies breathlessly. "I should mention I'm afraid of heights," she adds shakily, but it's the terrified way she mumbles, "Which I just learned," that makes Oliver realize just how much she's freaking out.

"Felicity," he says calmly.

"Huh?" she mutters. He's too busy examining the ceiling to figure out which beam will support their weight to look at her, but he crouches a bit and encircles her waist with his arm and she's at least present enough to realize he wants her to wrap her arm around his shoulder.

"Hold onto me tight," he says and pulls her to his side.

"I imagined you saying that under different circumstances," she quips. There's the Felicity he knows. Oliver turns to her trying to get her to focus. He expects to see her look a little meek, what he doesn't expect is the odd spark of heat that passes between them. "Very platonic circumstances," she adds a little unsure and Oliver thinks absently that her gaze is even more effective when he’s close enough to see how just blue her eyes are. The sound of Diggle chuckling in his ear is what finally snaps him out of it. But he can feel how close he comes to smiling as he turns his eyes back to the task at hand.

He hears her gasp as they he begins to swing them across the elevator shaft. She's light, but her grip is so tight on his shoulder and she's so frightened that she instinctively leans into him and ends up pressed flush against him, her face nestled into his shoulder and their legs almost intertwined. They land easily and he looks down to make sure she's ok and she gives a little nod. He easily crosses to the ledge in front of the elevator door on the 25th floor and pushes the halves of the door open.

It's not until he has to drag Felicity through the door by the elbow and notices how tense her body language is that he realizes she might be on the verge of a panic attack.

"Are you alright?" he asks genuinely and looks down into her face.

"I'm fine," she says, but she sounds like she's going to be sick. Though she seems to steady shelf as she rambles about this just being her "about to hack" face. He wants to stay until he knows she's ready to work, but he's got to get moving.

"Security patrols in a 10-minute cycle," he says calmly. "I'll have my meeting with Tommy and be back in 9," he adds reassuringly.

That ends up becoming a lie. He's just on his way back to her when Malcolm Merlyn accosts him and offers to accompany him on the elevator. True to form, Oliver fails to come up with a convincing lie and the sound of Diggle panicking makes him clench his fists so hard that they starts ache. But the situation becomes downright torturous when he hears a guard catch Felicity. Apparently she's just as inept at he is at coming up with a lie under pressure and he struggles to control his face as he listens to her fumble.

He's about to head back up when he hears Thea call his name. He tries to lie his way around her, but Thea's always been observant and she asks why he’s go back up again if he just came down. The only thing that stops him from yelling in frustration is the sounds of Diggle coming to the rescue. He's got to change the subject so Thea doesn't keep thinking about his lie and happens to spot Roy standing near the doors. As angry as he was before, he almost loses it when she says they're looking for the vigilante. It feels good to let off some steam by threatening that little punk. But all that fire is replaced by relief when he sees Felicity's red jacket out of the corner of his eye. She gives him a look as she opens and he decides apologizing for leaving her stranded is more important than threatening his sister's idiot boyfriend.

"I'm so sorry about that," he says the moment he sees her. "Are you ok?"

"I’m fine," she says and exhales slowly. "Though I'd like to end at least one mission without you having to ask me that." He smiles down at her, his remaining tension completely dissipated by her levity.

"Maybe you sit the next one out," he says and she smiles.

* * *

Oliver only half meant it then, but he's absolutely serious about it when Felicity offers to shut down the Markov Device herself on the night of the Undertaking.

"This whole area is ground zero," he says seriously. "I want you out of here."

"If you're not leaving, I'm not leaving," she replies just as seriously. "Besides, if I don't deactivate the device, who will?" He's just thinking how much he hates that she's always right when he realizes that maybe Detective Lance discovering her connection to the Hood might work to their advantage.

He feels somewhat better about the situation when they fix it so Felicity will direct Lance from the safety of Verdant, but he's still worried. He's waiting for Diggle to collect the rest of the gear when he approaches her desk.

"Felicity," he says and she turns to face him. "I wasn't kidding about not wanting you here." He places a hand on her shoulder, hoping the contact conveys just how much he means what he's saying. "If it looks like Lance can't do it, you leave this place as fast as you can." She purses her lips and tilts her head not unlike the way she did the first time they met, but this time he thinks it's because she's touched by the sentiment—not that the look is fully devoid of sarcasm, of course.

"Yeah, ok," she says dismissively and then reaches up to grasp his elbow. "Stay safe," she says.

But none of it matters anyway. Everything that could possibly go wrong that night does.

Diggle nearly dies. Malcolm dies with the revelation that he planted a second device on his lips. Laurel goes to CNRI despite his warning. And Tommy dies saving her. He thinks the guilt he feels when he lies to Tommy's face as his best friend dies the death he expected for himself this night is the worst of it. But then he carries Tommy's lifeless body from the building to the sounds of Laurel's agonized screaming and knows he will never experience anything worse. Laurel screams and hits him as he sets the body down. He flees knowing that the only reason she's blaming him is her grief, but he still can't help feeling that she's somehow right.

It's then that Felicity's voice comes through his earpiece.

"Diggle?" she starts, her voice full of fear and emotion. "Are you anywhere near Verdant?"

"No," he replies. "I've got to get to a hospital. Why?"

"I can't get out," she says and her voice breaks. "Something is blocking the door at the top of the stairs and I've tried every other exit."

"I'm coming," Oliver replies.

The trip takes longer than he expects; the streets are so filled with rubble and stunned residents surveying the damage that he eventually abandons his motorcycle and runs. When he finally arrives, the hall leading to the door is completely blocked, the floor above having collapsed into it. His only option ends up being breaking through one of the few small windows to the outside world he didn't cement over when he refurbished the basement. He breaks the glass case containing the emergency fire hose in the club and ties it into a harness Felicity can wrap around herself.

When he finally pulls her through the window, she wraps her arms around his neck and presses her face into his chest as she cries

"Oliver," she sobs, "I'm so sorry about Tommy."

He returns the embraces as they sit on the ground—one arm wrapped tightly around her waist and the other resting in her hair where it falls against her back. He lets himself grip onto her and cry because he’s so happy that he’s managed to save one person he cares about tonight and if he’s being honest with himself, he needs it.


	3. Secret Admirers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I lied, but that is in the title so I don't feel bad. I've decided to split the end into two chapters thanks to the lovely redtoes who is my better and whose wonderful comments were so helpful in making this chapter what it is. Go and read her brilliant Olicity Vegas fic immediately, mine will be waiting when you get back.
> 
> Hopefully this next chapter won't take too long, but who knows really? I am a bigger liar than Oliver.

It's a few weeks before Oliver can even think of being the Hood again.

Queen Consolidated stock plummets in the wake of the Undertaking. The company needs to bolster its image since its CEO sits in jail for conspiring to wipe out half the city. Thea is too young and Walter married in, so it's up to Oliver to be the face of the company. And he ends up being perfect for it. People seem to like the idea of the reformed playboy who got snapped out of his selfishness when he realized the depth of his family's corruption. His time surviving on the island helps too, making him seem more likely to understand what it's like to fight to survive in the face of losing everything.

He holds press conferences promising QC money to help rebuild, he offers free drinks at Verdant and provides shelters for those displaced by the damage. He feels like he's helping. But it's the moments when a woman who lost a child in the Undertaking slaps him in the street or when he serves the last plate of food at a shelter and knows the line stretches around the block that he thinks about most. Because it’s then that he's reminded how little he can do.

He gets that same feeling when he attends Malcolm and Tommy's funeral. The two are combined because the name Merlyn doesn't garner much affection in the city at the time and the surviving relatives want to get both over as soon as possible. There's a mob gathered at the gates of the cemetery, protesting the very idea that Malcolm should deserve to be buried with dignity or that Merlyn Global doesn't think it should pay for the full rehabilitation of the Glades.

Oliver can barely stand the injustice that Tommy's name will be forever linked to his father's corruption when he made a choice to rise above it. He hates that he's the only one who will ever know it because revealing that truth will also reveal that he's the Hood. He hates himself for his selfishness. The closest he comes to revealing it is when he watches Laurel weeping despondently over his casket. All he can offer is an arm on her shoulder and he feels her shy away slightly. He suspects it has something to do with guilt that her last act in their relationship was to sleep with Oliver while Tommy's was to die saving her.

That's another feeling Oliver can understand. He had expected to die during the Undertaking, to complete his father's mission and finally find peace. Tommy took the fall instead and all Oliver can think about is what a terrible friend he was to him. He tells himself that guilt isn't the real reason he's avoiding the hood, that it really is the corporate work that's holding him back. But it only takes a sidelong glance from Diggle to make him realize that's a lie.

It still takes him a month to work up the courage though. By then the media and the people of Starling City are practically rioting for the Hood to return. They need a beacon of hope and Oliver realizes that's he owes them that much, that the work he does during the day deals with surface not soul and the latter is equally important.

He sends the message to Diggle and Felicity to meet him at Verdant at their usual time and he's confused when only the former appears.

"Where’s Felicity?” Oliver asks as he walks down the stairs.

“Never showed,” Diggle replies with a shrug. “Maybe the Undertaking finally scared her off our line of work,” he adds. It’s phrased like one of his usual jokes, but Oliver can’t detect any hint of humor in Digg’s voice.

They start simple: a patrol of the streets around the Glades to deter any petty crime. Part of it is because Oliver wants to ease back into vigilantism; the other is that they need Felicity to help them plan taking out any higher level targets. He and Diggle both attempted to figure out her computer set up, but gave up when they couldn’t make it past the log-in screen—which is something they both agree she never needs to know. They stop a few burglaries and break up a few fights thanks to the police scanner, but as he hangs up his gear at the end of the night, Oliver knows they won’t get anything done without Felicity. He wonders how they ever got anything done without her before.

He tries to think of why she didn’t appear and suddenly realizes that he hasn’t seen her much in the last month. She came to Tommy’s funeral, a sympathetic glance and a comforting squeeze of her hand on his arm when a protester interrupted the proceedings the extent of their interaction. Of course she attended the QC-wide mandatory town hall meeting he officiated. He remembers the encouraging smile she gave him when one of the employees tendered his resignation right there in front of everyone while saying that he couldn’t work for a company that had been part of a genocide. But that’s it. He hasn’t needed to sneak into her office to discuss vigilante work and he hasn’t received her usual emails, texts or calls. That shouldn’t surprise him because their communication has always centered on work, but her complete radio silence—the absence of even one email to check in—worries him.

He decides then that the morning meeting will have to be cancelled. He has to visit the IT Department.

* * *

The sounds of Felicity’s laughter float down the hall as he approaches the door and Oliver smiles. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed that sound. He turns the corner and strides into her office, his posture in line with the flirty-flirt act he remembers she likes so much, and then he’s stopped short by what he sees.

In the second before Felicity notices he’s there, he sees her sitting behind her desk, smiling up through her eyelashes with that mischievous dimpled smile on her face he remembers from the days before she knew his secret. That gaze, which Oliver has only every seen directed at himself before, focused on a man sitting on the corner of her desk, leaning toward her on a hand resting not too far from where hers sits. Her smile fades the moment she sees Oliver and the concerned, wary look that replaces it stings him. The man turns to see what’s caused her reaction and he fumbles the pen he’s twirling in one hand when he does.

“Mr. Queen!” he blurts and stands. He’s not quite as tall as Oliver and certainly not as built—instead his body is lanky but toned. His hair is dark brown and meticulously disheveled, his green eyes framed by black-rimmed glasses that aren’t too far in shape from Felicity’s. Oliver feels his lips purse into a hard line and his whole posture shifts from carefree to imposing, not consciously, it just happens.

“Pardon me, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” Oliver intones and he’s surprised at how sarcastic and rude he sounds.

“Not at all,” the guy says and self-consciously adjusts his tie before stepping toward Oliver with hand outstretched. “Name’s Edward Raymond,” he says cordially. Oliver looks down his nose at the extended hand and feels a little thrill of pleasure at the way the man shrinks back a little. Oliver grabs his hand roughly and can’t help but smile at the way Raymond winces at the pressure.

“Nice to meet you,” Oliver mutters in a tone that is anything but. “If you’ll excuse us, Ed, I’ve got to ask Ms. Smoak a few technical questions. I missed a few things while I was stranded on an island for five years.” Raymond chuckles, thinking Oliver’s being light-hearted and then flinches when he sees the dour expression on his boss’s face.

“Sure, Mr. Queen,” he says nervously and moves to leave. He turns back to give Felicity a little smile and wave and Oliver doesn’t like the sensation that they forget that he’s there for a second.

“Eddie,” he says condescendingly, “mind shutting the door on your way out?”

He nods with an embarrassed smile/grimace and then does so. When Oliver turns back to Felicity, he finds her giving him her most disapproving teacher look and he’s pretty sure the smile that breaks across his face wasn’t the reaction she was hoping for.

“So who’s the kid?” Oliver asks dismissively and points a thumb back toward the door.

“The _kid_ —who I'd like to point out is the same age as me—is the newest addition to the QC IT Department,” she says coolly. She pauses a second as he takes a seat across from her. “We had to hire some extra help because a certain heir to the company kept taking me away from my duties here to help set up his home office.”

“What an ass,” Oliver says in mock indignation.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she counters and Oliver isn’t sure if the way her eyebrow raises after she says it is an indication that she actually intended that double entendre. They smile silently at each other for a few moments, settling into their usual rhythms despite seeing each other so little lately.

“Where were you yesterday?” Oliver suddenly blurts out and the pleading tone in his voice surprises him. Felicity’s face falls and her eyes shift down, avoiding him.

"I don't know if it's a good idea for me to keep working with you," she says softly. As before, Oliver's body reacts before he's conscious of it. He's suddenly standing, both palms flat on her desk and leaning toward her, not threatening but desperate. She looks up at him, her mouth dropping open in shock at the speed of his movements.

"Why?" he asks. She contemplates him for a moment, her eyes starting to fill with tears and suddenly the words come tumbling out.

"Because I could have died that night, Oliver," she starts, tears brimming over as the words come tumbling out. "I wanted to come back yesterday, I did. I made it all the way to Verdant because I was so happy that we were finally going to start back up again because I've missed it so much. But I was the first one there and I went downstairs to wait for you guys and all of a sudden I couldn’t breathe. I just kept thinking about how scared I was that night and how much I wanted to call my parents and tell them I loved them, but I didn't want to scare them." She pauses to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "What if the roof had collapsed before you got there? They never would have even known why I died and there wouldn't be anyone to comfort them because my whole life is you and your vendetta, Oliver." She takes a breath and her eyes widen for a moment as if even she's surprised by what she's saying. She looks at him, so unsure and pained that Oliver is glad his hands are on the desk to support him. "My whole life can't be in that basement," she finishes and her voice is small and so, so sad that all Oliver can think about is how much he can't let this happen.

He walks around her desk and she turns toward him in her chair and starts to stand, but she stops when Oliver takes her hands in his and crouches in front of her. "The city needs you, Felicity. We need you." Oliver almost finishes with _I_ need you, but stops himself because he doesn't understand why that would be different or somehow more important than the other two.

She doesn't respond right away, just stares down to where their hands are entwined in her lap.

"What for?" she asks, her voice bitter. "I barely figured out the first device in time and I totally missed the signs that Merlyn had a second device. I looked, you know, after. It was all there and I missed it. I already failed this city." She says the last part with a helpless shrug and Oliver can't believe that, beyond all logical thought, Felicity somehow thinks she could have done more that night. Maybe that's why he hasn't heard from her since he was left standing on her stoop that night, his head aching from spending so long crying in her arms, watching her walk up the stairs to her apartment and wishing he could stay in her comforting presence all night but knowing a whole city's worth of problems would still be there in the morning regardless.

"Hey," Oliver practically yells and her eyes flash up to meet his. " _You_ are the reason half the Glades still exists," he says and squeezes her hands. "I never would have been able to do what you did. If anyone failed the city that night, I did. Half the city is in ruins because I was too afraid of the truth. I should have confronted my mother earlier. I should have taken out Malcolm. I should never have told Tommy about me. He never should have been in CNRI that night. I should have been the one who di—" But Oliver doesn't get to finish because Felicity's hands are suddenly pulling his face up to make him look at her.

"No," she says quietly, her eyes soft. "Don't," she adds more firmly and Oliver closes his eyes, focusing on the way her thumbs stroke his cheekbones.

"Please come to Verdant tonight," he says. His eyes snap open as Felicity's hands leave his face and she brings them to her own, pushing her glasses up away from her eyes to cover her face. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel comfortable in there," he pleads, but all she does in response is sigh and shake her head. "I'll show up early and walk you down the stairs, I'll walk you out every night. I'll buy you all the tech you want." She laughs at that and Oliver smiles slyly. "We can get that 3D printer you kept asking for," he says enticingly. Felicity slides her hands down a little so she can look at him, eyes narrowed, and he can tell she's smiling even if he can't see her mouth. "Please come back," he finishes, all joking gone from his tone.

"Ugh, fine!" she groans after a moment and drops her hands. "Damn you, the 3D printer line was low," she adds, but she's smiling when she says it and Oliver can't help but laugh.

"So you get off at 7 right?" he asks and stands to make his way around her desk. "I can meet you at the club around 7:30 or we can leave from here together."

"I'd rather meet there, if it’s all the same to you," she replies. "Just being seen with Oliver Queen can give a girl a reputation."

"Now _that_ was low," he argues and she smiles mischievously as he opens the door, but as he leaves he thinks he sees her forehead crinkle in thought. He hopes it's about work.

* * *

Oliver keeps his promise. He shows up 15 minutes early just in case.

When Felicity gets to Verdant, she's smiling but Oliver can tell how nervous she is by the way she starts rambling from the moment she steps out of the car. She goes deathly quiet when they get inside the building though and while they're walking down the stairs, she's gripping his arm so tight that permanent nerve damage is becoming a concern. She makes it though and by the time Diggle arrives, she's so wrapped up in her computers that Oliver almost thinks he might be misremembering it. Though he still makes sure to walk her out that night.

It becomes their routine. Oliver's always waiting when Felicity arrives and she's always waiting for him to clean up after missions.

So when he comes back from a patrol one evening and doesn't find her sitting behind her desk, he's immediately concerned.

"Where's Felicity?" he asks Diggle as he walks down the stairs.

"Left early," he replies over his shoulder, "said she had a date."

"What?" Oliver asks, stopping mid stride. Diggle turns and gives Oliver an odd appraising look before responding.

"You heading home for the night?" he asks, ignoring Oliver's confusion.

"I think I'm actually going to do a few things here first. You can head home."

"Ok," Diggle replies and picks up his things. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you," Oliver responds, but his mind is already elsewhere. He tries to think of a reason Felicity wouldn't say anything and comes up wanting. He really had planned to call it a night, but the unanswered question is nipping at his mind.

Oliver doesn't consciously go to Felicity's apartment building—he leaves Verdant telling himself that he just wants to make one last patrol—but he's still unsurprised when he finds himself perched on a fire escape across the street that gets a full view of her stoop. He tells himself that he's just making sure she gets home alright, but then doesn't think about why that would or wouldn't be necessary.

He only waits an hour before he sees a silver sedan pull up and watches Felicity step out, the soft sound of her laughter floating on the night breeze. Her date exits the car too, but his face is turned to Felicity so Oliver can't see it. The man is tall and thin and something about him seems familiar, but Oliver can't quite place it.

They walk up the stairs together and then stop at her door, him standing slightly behind and to the right of her. Felicity opens the door slightly then turns back to say something. She seems to mouth something about having a good time, but she's stopped mid-sentence as her date suddenly leans in and kisses her. Oliver is already reaching for an arrow when he sees Felicity return the kiss. The part of her lips he can see upturns in a smile and her hand comes up to cup the guy's face. They break apart after a few seconds and Oliver can see her mouth "goodnight" before turning and walking into her building.

The guy stands there a moment and Oliver imagines he's watching Felicity walk up the stairs the same way he always has, then heaves a sigh and turns to walk down the stairs. Oliver goes rigid as he finally sees the man's face and realizes it's the same one he walked in on Felicity flirting with that one time. Edward something. Oliver frowns, unimpressed at the memory of that first encounter. The contented look on Edward's face as he walks toward his car annoys Oliver and he can't help but wonder why Felicity would be attracted to such a doofus.

* * *

"So how was your date?" Oliver asks the next day. But it's not the first thing he says to her. Instead, his first words to her are an incredulous, "Are you alone down here?" as he walks down the stairs to find Felicity already tapping away at her keyboard instead of waiting for him to escort her down.

"Yup," she replies and turns to face him, looking a little proud. "Now that we're not under-staffed I can leave a little earlier. So, when I got here and didn't see you, I just decided I may as well give it a try."

"Good for you," he returns with a smile and he means it, but he still feels a twinge of disappointment that this means an end to their routine.

It's then that he asks about the date. Oliver should find the deep red blush and the bashful demeanor charming, but the image of Edward Raymond's satisfied little smile after kissing Felicity pops into his mind.

"Oh, um, it was fine," she says and turns back to the expensive new screens she bought as part of her upgrade of the whole "lair," as she repeatedly referred to it.

" _Just_ fine?" he asks.

"It was great," she corrects with that private, dimpled smile and Oliver frowns. “We went to that new French place on 25th that’s been getting all that well-deserved buzz,” she gushes. “Though their sommelier should be fired because the only worthwhile thing I found on the menu was a rosé and that’s not saying much,” she adds absently.

"Well, just remember that we have a strict rule against inter-office romances at Queen Consolidated," he says a little prissily and takes a seat on her desk. She purses her lips and looks at him over the frames of her glasses and Oliver tries not to smile.

"Rumor around the office is that you're the reason that policy went into effect—though rumor also has it that it only encouraged you," she says drily. Oliver only smirks in response.

“Speaking of your love life, what’s the deal with you and Laurel?” she asks. “I haven’t heard you talk about her since...” she freezes, shifting awkwardly in her seat before finishing with, “before.”

Oliver sighs and stands, turning away from Felicity's questioning gaze.

"Laurel and I are...figuring things out," he replies, though he supposes that's too generous a description for the fact that they haven't spoken since Tommy's funeral.

"What's there to work out?" Felicity asks, her tone a little contentious. "I thought you guys had," she makes a motion with her hands that looks like she's molding clay that Oliver finds a little obscene, "before the Undertaking."

"Things are complicated," Oliver replies harshly.

"Oh my God," Felicity sighs and smacks her forehead. "You two are so self-centered, I swear."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you and Laurel using Tommy as an excuse not to talk," she accuses and stands.

"That's not what's happening," Oliver snaps and folds his arms.

"Isn't it?" she fires back and steps closer to him. "I heard what you said to him when he died," she says softly and Oliver turns his face from her. "I tried not to listen, but I couldn't help overhearing a few things every time I switched my comm back on." She places a hand on his arm and he turns back. "You can't take responsibility for what Tommy did. He was brave enough to go after Laurel knowing how dangerous it was. So don't use what he did as an excuse to act like cowards."

Oliver stares down at Felicity and he knows she's right, but the thing that hits him most at that moment is how in hell he ever convinced her to care about him as much as she does and how he could possibly deserve it. That Raymond character better be worth more than he looks. He decides then to do a more thorough check on the guy than the simple search through company records he did this morning.

But he doesn't say any of that to her. He just nods and says a soft, "ok."

"Good," Felicity says and oddly socks him in the shoulder before turning back to her desk. She sits down and starts to type and Oliver starts to head off to change into his workout clothes when her head suddenly pops up and the clicking stops.

"Wait," she starts, "how did you know I was with someone from work?"

Oh shit.

"What?" Oliver asks, betraying nothing.

"You said something about the company dating policy," she says, standing and narrowing her eyes at him. "How did you know it was someone from QC? I didn't tell you that."

"Diggle mentioned it," Oliver replies quickly.

"No," she shakes her head, "I didn't tell Diggle that either."

"Didn't tell me what?" Diggle interjects from the top of the stairs.

Felicity turns to answer him and Oliver tries to sneak away.

"Oh no you don't," she says and catches his arm. "How did you know who I was with?" she demands.

"I saw you," Oliver replies noncommittally, hoping she won't dig further.

"Where..." she starts, but her voice trails off and her eyes go a little distant before she finishes. "Oh my God," she mutters. "I _did_ see you running across a rooftop across the street. I thought I was imagining it."

"I was just—" Oliver says, but he's cut off when Felicity slaps him hard across the face. He stands there in utter shock for the first few moments, surprised he didn't see it coming. Felicity too looks a little impressed that it landed.

"Diggle's really been working on your strength training," Oliver states absently and he hears his partner start to snicker in the background. Felicity blushes and then straightens her back, looking a little haughty.

"Well, let that be a lesson to you to never follow me on a date again," she says and walks back to her desk.

Oliver turns his stunned gaze on Diggle and his partner only shrugs in response, as if to say it was well-deserved.

And Oliver supposes that's true. So he makes a mental note to at least not be seen next time.

* * *

The next time he follows her on a date though, it's entirely by accident.

Oliver ended up calling Laurel. They made a date for the next weekend and he decided on the French place Felicity mentioned.

He notices Felicity from the moment he walks in the door. More hears her actually, the pure joy of her laughter rising above the din.

She's sitting with her back to the door, facing Raymond, who seems downright enchanted with her. Oliver hopes they'll be able to slip past without notice, but the hostess leads them right past their table and suddenly she turns and sees him.

"Oliver?" she says and her whole body jolts in surprise.

"Ms. Smoak," he says, hoping his formality will downplay her familiarity. "Lovely to see you. I believe you remember Ms. Lance," he says and turns to her.

"Nice to see you again," Laurel offers and the women shake hands.

"Nice to see you as well," Felicity replies. "I believe you remember my—” she starts but Oliver immediately goes into CEO mode and interrupts.

"Yes, the newest addition to the QC IT Department. Ted, right?" Oliver asks even though he's well aware that's wrong.

"Edward," the other man corrects before adding, "Raymond," and sort of stands to shake Oliver's hand, the grip a little firmer than the first time.

"Raymond, right," Oliver says, but his tone makes it sound like he'll forget it immediately. "Well, enjoy your dinner. I hear the food is good even if the wine list is a little lacking."

"Actually, they've made some improvements," Felicity blurts out and then hunches in her seat, looking timid. Raymond gives her a strange look that oddly matches the one Oliver sees Laurel giving him. They're seated at a table that sits along the adjoining wall to where Felicity and Raymond's table stands. From where Oliver sits, he can even see them, Raymond with his back slightly to him and Felicity almost facing him.

After a few minutes spent perusing the menu, they order and almost immediately, Laurel excuses herself to take a work call. Oliver's phone buzzes a few seconds later and he sees a text from Felicity that reads: "I thought I made it clear how I feel about being followed on dates." He looks up and sees Felicity engaged in conversation with Raymond and wonders when she had time to text him until he notices her fingers are drumming on her phone where it sits in her lap. He smiles and texts back: "I promise this was a coincidence. You raved about this place so much that I automatically thought of it when Laurel asked where we should meet." It takes a few seconds for her to get the message, but eventually Oliver sees her surreptitiously look down at the screen as she takes a bite of food. His phone buzzes not long after and her message reads, "That better be the case. You know the consequences...." She punctuates it with a little picture of a fist and Oliver smiles.

He looks over to see her pick up her wine glass to hide that mischievous grin of hers and he can't tell if she's watching him out of the corner of her eye. So he decides to figure out for sure. Oliver suddenly feigns a look of pure terror and ducks behind his arms as if he's avoiding a punch. Felicity reacts instantly. She's coughing as if she's just choked on her drink and she raises her napkin to hide her laughter. Raymond stands, his body language betraying concern, but Felicity just waves a hand at him. Oliver shakes his head and smiles.

Laurel returns then, apologizing profusely for having to disappear, but Oliver just waves it off as he reluctantly puts his phone away. They chat idly for awhile until Laurel gets on the subject of work and her voice is suddenly more passionate, determined. Oliver listens to her talk about her cases and while he's always admired how devoted she is, he also wonders when she became so serious. He supposes some of that is his fault. Still, it doesn't bode well for when he tells her about his nightlife— _if_ he ever tells her.

Just then, he notices Felicity and Raymond stand to leave out of the corner of his eye. He stops mid-sentence and waves to them, but only Felicity waves back. Oliver's watching them go, wondering how serious they're going to get when Laurel's voice breaks into his thoughts.

"So how do you know that girl again?" she asks, her voice guarded.

"We work together," Oliver replies and turns to face her. "She's in the IT Department at QC. I was having trouble adjusting to everything computer-wise when I came back and now I just go to her whenever I have a problem." It's a lie he's practiced ever since he brought Felicity onto the team and it's as solid as any he's ever come up with (which Felicity likes to argue is because she helped him with it). So he doesn't understand when Laurel still looks a little suspicious. It's probably nothing.

* * *

Oliver and Laurel are, for all intents and purposes, a couple after that night. They eat dinner together most nights, they have sex, they try to pick up where they left off. But something about it feels like going through the motions. Oliver can't count the times he imagined being back with Laurel while he was on the island, but now that he is, the fire isn't quite there. Not just in the way he expected, but in the way it used to be. Maybe it's because she's always leaving to deal with a work emergency or because he's constantly lying to her about being the Hood. Maybe it's because they never really talk when they're sitting around her apartment, mostly they do more work while the TV plays ignored in the background. Maybe it's because when they do talk, most of their conversations are just lists of facts or events, there's nothing to laugh about. Maybe it's because every time she asks him a question it's always with an accusatory tone. Maybe it's because whenever he stops by her office at the ADA's to bring her lunch, it's never because he wants to surprise her, but because he wants to get intel on a target.

It's during one such visit that he overhears that Deadshot is back in town. He has to fight to keep his body language from betraying how important that information is and he's barely out the door before he's calling Diggle. His partner says he will head to the lair immediately and Oliver says he will run to QC to get Felicity out of work.

Oliver walks straight into her office without knocking, as he always does, and is immediately confronted with the sight of Felicity and Raymond exiting an embrace. Felicity blushes so deep that the skin from her forehead to her chest goes crimson and that's how Oliver notices that her shirt is open one too many buttons, the edge of her black bra peeking out above her dark blue shirt.

"Mr. Queen!" Raymond stammers and adjusts his glasses.

"Hello, Mr. Raymond, hope I'm not interrupting any official QC business," Oliver says sarcastically.

"Oh, no, we were just..." Raymond starts, but then he flinches and the sentence goes unfinished.

"Well, I do have some official business to discuss with Ms. Smoak, so if you don't mind," Oliver says drily and gestures toward the door.

"Sure, Mr. Queen," he agrees and ducks his head in embarrassment as he leaves.

"Don't forget to close that door, Eddie," Oliver says without turning, instead smiling smugly at Felicity as she buttons her shirt and adjusts her glasses. He hears the soft click of the door and suddenly the silence feels heavy around them. Felicity glares at him, surprisingly unapologetic though she's still blushing, but Oliver smirks right back. They take their respective seats in total silence, neither willing to give in.

"I see you're respecting the company dating policy just as much as I used to," Oliver quips and Felicity blushes almost as red as before. She fidgets and looks down, embarrassed, before finally running a hand over her face.

"What do you want Oliver?" she sighs, her tone defeated.

"What? Can't I just come to my company's IT Department to say hello to my favorite employee?" he asks innocently. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but she also smiles.

He stops torturing her then and tells her about Deadshot. Oliver swears he can almost hear Felicity's brain go into overdrive as she starts setting up alerts and searching for a lead on the assassin's target while he goes to make excuses with her supervisor.

Oliver, Felicity and Diggle work like a well-oiled machine when they are finally in the lair together. Felicity continues to work any and all angles of finding Deadshot's target, Diggle tracks down old contacts and calls in favors for any official information and Oliver readies the equipment, trying to prepare for any eventualities.

Before long, Felicity spots something: a reservation for a room on the second floor of a hotel across the street from the Chinese embassy made under one of the aliases they got from Deadshot's laptop last year.

"That was easy," Oliver says, surprised.

"Maybe a little too easy," Diggle replies.

"I agree," Felicity interjects. "He knows the Hood has those names and he's been careful not to use them since."

"So it's a set up then," Oliver chimes in. "Is there a reason he's across from the embassy too or is this purely Hood bait?"

"Looks like the ambassador is in town this week starting tomorrow" Felicity notes after doing a quick search. "Maybe he's trying to kill two birds with one stone," Felicity suggests before adding, "no pun intended. I mean, if that even counts as one."

"Felicity," Oliver interrupts before she can get going, "can you look up vantage points and see if you can get some intel on when the ambassador might be arriving tomorrow?"

"Sure," she says with a curt nod and turns to her screens. Oliver tilts his head at Diggle and leads him somewhere a little more out of Felicity's earshot.

"So how do you want to play this?" Oliver asks.

"How do you mean?" Diggle asks and crosses his arms.

"I mean, he's clearly trying to lure the Hood, but he doesn't know we work together. You wanted to take him out, here's your chance."

"And how exactly do we go about that, Oliver? He'll take you down the second he has a chance."

"Then we let him think he has so you can finish him off," Oliver says with a shrug. Diggle's eyebrows shoot up like Oliver's just said the stupidest thing he's ever heard.

"You really think Felicity's going to go for that?" Diggle asks drily.

"Maybe we don't tell her," Oliver replies and glances nervously to where Felicity sits to make sure she hasn't heard them.

"It's your call, man," Diggle says and raises his hands as if he wants nothing to do with it, "but if he doesn't kill you, she will."

Diggle's jest turns out to be not far from the truth. The plan goes exactly according to plan. Oliver barges in trying to be noticed and Deadshot fires two shots into his chest. Oliver fakes some dying sounds as he hears Felicity panicking in his ear. He manages to stay quiet, though, even as Deadshot looms over him and the sound of Felicity crying is profoundly upsetting. And just as Lawton raises his weapon to shoot Oliver in the head, Diggle steps in, firing two bullets into his chest and finishing him off with one through the forehead—but only after he gets to see recognition and horror wash over the assassin's face.

"Diggle!" Felicity yells through the comms, "is Oliver still breathing? I've already called an ambulance and the police to the scene."

"That won't be necessary," Oliver grunts and sits up.

"Oliver?" she gasps, her voice sounding downright jubilant. "How are you alive?"

"I thought it would be a good idea to wear a little body armor on this one," he explains and leaves it at that.

"It was all part of the plan," Diggle says reassuringly, ruining everything. "It was the only way we could think of to give me a chance to take down Lawton." Oliver backhands him right in the chest and gives him an incredulous look. Diggle cringes when he realizes his mistake, but the damage is done.

"Oliver Queen," Felicity starts, her voice seething with rage, "you knew this was going to happen and you didn't tell me?"

"We didn't think you'd agree to the plan," Oliver argues and his voice sounds a bit like a child making excuses to a teacher.

"You bet your ass I wouldn't have!" she yells back in full-on Loud Voice. It really is rather terrifying. But she doesn't get to say much more as the sound of police pounding on the door of the hotel room fills the air.

"We better get out of here," Diggle says and pulls Oliver up.

"This isn't over," Felicity threatens and the comm goes dead silent.

"We could always make a run for it," Diggle suggests, looking apologetic.

"No," Oliver says after taking a moment to consider it, "she'd find us."

When they return to the lair, they walk down the stairs tentatively like they're expecting an ambush. Felicity charges at them the moment they hit the bottom stair and Diggle practically throws Oliver forward as a human shield.

"Don't you EVER do that again!" she bellows and pushes against Oliver's chest with both hands. He had time to brace himself when he saw her coming, but getting shot in the chest while wearing a vest still leaves serious bruising, so he flinches and hisses at the sharp pain. Felicity's face immediately softens and her body language reads worry.

"Felicity..." Oliver starts, but he doesn't make it any further because she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck so that he has to wrap his arms around her waist to hold her up. Diggle scoots around them and he and Oliver shrug at each other, hoping this means they aren't in trouble.

"I'm sorry we upset you," Oliver says softly into Felicity's ear. She turns to face him and he sets her down, but his hands stay at her waist and hers slide down to his chest.

"Just promise you won't lie to me about missions, ok?" she replies and swipes at where her eyes are brimming with tears. "You really had me worried there for a second," she adds, her tone soft, but still full of censure.

"Ok," Oliver agrees.

"Plus, we know I'm the brains behind this operation," she says as she turns back to her desk. "I'm sure I could have thought of another way to get Deadshot that didn't involve you getting shot." She sits down and turns back to her screens and Oliver just shakes his head before heading off to assess the damage to his body.

It's when he's hanging up his jacket that he notices it. Traces of Felicity's perfume linger on the front from where she was pressed against him. He leans in, scenting hints of something floral, feminine. He leans back, considering that it's not a fragrance sure to strike fear into any of his targets before Diggle calls to him and he forgets about it. At least until the next day when he smells it again as he pulls the jacket on. He notices it anew each time he repeats the action in the days after. All remnants are gone by the fourth day and he suddenly finds that he misses it.

* * *

Diggle proposes to Carly before the year is out and they set a date for spring. Felicity practically tackles him when he tells them. Oliver's reaction is a little more subdued, a firm handshake and a pat on the back.

"I'd want you as my best man," Diggle tells him, "but it would kind of blow our bodyguard-client cover."

"I won't hold it against you," Oliver replies genially.

"Maybe he could be your ring-bearer," Felicity jokes and Diggle laughs heartily.

"I could just imagine you with a tiny pink pillow in your hands," he says between chuckles.

"I'd be up for that," Oliver says good-naturedly. "But only if Felicity gets to be the flower girl," he adds and gives her a sly look. Diggle laughs even harder and Felicity narrows her eyes at him and shakes her head.

They end up going as regular guests, however. It's a weekend destination wedding of sorts, though the lakeside resort it takes place at is only about two hours outside of Starling City. Diggle and Carly initially wanted something smaller, but then Oliver practically insisted on covering most of the costs and told them to go as big and lavish as they wanted.

Oliver brings Laurel as his plus one. She can't stay the whole weekend because she's working on a big police corruption case, so he books a room for the nights before and of the wedding only. It's a big step for them, their first trip together since before the island, and Oliver hopes it will be the thing they need to make their relationship feel more immediate.

Though Oliver and Felicity aren't in the wedding party, their seats are still front and center during the ceremony, mingled with Diggle's family members. Oliver and Laurel have already taken their seats when Felicity walks up with Raymond on her arm.

"Felicity!" Oliver says and stands, "You look lovely." She's wearing a lavender sundress with a billowing skirt that's more romantic and delicate than anything he's seen her in before. Her hair cascades around her shoulders in relaxed waves and her usual glasses are absent.

"Thank you," she says bashfully and drops her hand from Raymond's arm to hug Oliver, who didn't notice his arms were outstretched until she did.

"You remember Laurel," he says and turns.

"Nice to see you again," she says politely.

"You as well," Felicity replies kindly. "You remember Edward," she says and turns to him.

"Nice to see you again, Eddie," Oliver says and almost means it because right now he's so happy for Diggle that he almost doesn't care that Felicity is somehow still dating this little nerd.

"There they are," Diggle's voice suddenly booms out, "my two favorite people," he says and walks toward them with arms outstretched. Instead of greeting them each individually, he pulls them both into a bear hug and the three of them stand locked together for a few moments—laughing and congratulating and complimenting each other.

The ceremony starts a few minutes later and they take their seats, Oliver next to Felicity with their respective dates on either side. Carly looks radiant as she walks down the aisle toward a beaming Diggle. Oliver winks at a smiling Felicity when Diggle's nephew and another little girl with the duties of ring bearer and flower girl respectively appear. Oliver smiles smugly when he hands Felicity his pocket square so she can cry into it during the vows while Raymond can only watch helplessly because he forgot to wear one.

The ceremony is beautiful, but the reception is better. It's basically a garden party full of food, music and dancing. Oliver and Felicity are seated at the same table with a few of Diggle's family members and Oliver's thankful she's there to recite the lie they've worked out for how they know Diggle so well. Not that Oliver has a hard time in these types of social situations, he is charming billionaire playboy Oliver Queen after all.

He spends most of the reception mingling with the other guests, Laurel accompanying on his arm. He occasionally spots Felicity throughout the night, his eyes landing on her whenever there's a lull in conversation. At one point she's off in the grass with the kids who've been dragged along, her heels kicked off as she carries Diggle's nephew AJ under her arm like he's a sack of potatoes and Oliver doesn't think he's ever seen a group of children laugh so hard. Most of the time, though, she's out on the dance floor. Usually with Raymond, but also once with Diggle and a few times with Diggle's nephew, who seems enamored.

Oliver only asks Laurel to dance once. The two of them have never been much for dancing; their friends used to tease them about it. They last through one song and then return to their seats. Laurel's phone buzzes for about the thousandth time that day and she glances at the screen wistfully as she has every other time.

"You can go ahead and take that if you need to," Oliver suggests.

"Are you sure?" she asks and cringes, but he can see the relief underneath. "You don't mind?"

"Of course not," he says nonchalantly, "I knew what I was getting into dating someone working on the new ADA's team." She smiles and kisses him on the cheek before answering the phone and stepping away.

Oliver watches the people moving on the dance floor in the light of the setting sun and smiles when he notices Felicity dancing with Raymond. She's certainly not what he would call graceful, but some of her wild gesticulations can probably be chocked up to alcohol consumption. At least she's having fun.

Oliver stands and makes his way onto the dance floor, weaving between other couples until he reaches where they're dancing. He taps Raymond on the shoulder and tries not to feel good about the way the man's face crumbles when he turns and sees him.

"Mind if I cut in, buddy?" Oliver asks jovially.

"Sure, Mr. Queen," Raymond replies and steps back.

"Thanks, pal," Oliver says and pats him hard enough on the back that Raymond stumbles forward slightly. "Maybe go scare us up some drinks while you're at it," Oliver adds and turns to see Felicity fixing him with her sternest of teacher looks. He shrugs and she shakes her head and they start to dance when the song suddenly ends and is replaced by something with a much slower tempo.

"Oh, um, I'm not really good at the traditional waltz-type stuff," Felicity mutters and wrings her hands nervously. "Maybe we should sit this one out," she adds and starts to move away, but Oliver grabs her hand and pulls her into hold without a word, leading her along to the music.

"I'm sure we'll manage," Oliver says, "I'd like to think all those dance classes my mother put me in as a kid are enough to get us through one song at least." He pulls her tighter then and Felicity blushes slightly and remains a little tense.

"So are you guys enjoying the party?" Felicity asks awkwardly.

"I am," Oliver replies, "but I think Laurel's a little worried about how swamped with work she's going to be when we get back. How about you?"

"Edward and I were just thinking the same thing," Felicity sighs, "but it's still nice to get away from the office." Oliver raises his eyebrows in mock indignation. "I mean, we love our jobs," she backpedals, "it's just nice to have time to see each other outside of the office."

"You mean the office at my company with the strict no dating policies?" he teases. "I can make sure Mr. Raymond spends even less time in the office, if you'd like," he jokes and then laughs at her horrified expression. "Felicity, I'm kidding," he explains and she relaxes. "I know how much you like the kid," he finishes and he can't help the edge of derision in his tone.

"Why don't you like Edward?" she asks suddenly, her voice playful, but he can hear the hurt in it.

"I like all of my employees," he deadpans, but he doesn't need the withering glance she gives him to know it's a lie. "It's not that I dislike the guy, per se. I just want to make sure he knows that if he ever does anything to hurt you, there will be consequences." His tone is light, but Oliver means every word and Felicity seems to know it because she pulls him closer and rests her head on his shoulder for the rest of the song.

The music stops altogether then and the band leader announces the cutting of the cake. Raymond appears, taking a possessive hold of Felicity's arm and Oliver scowls before turning to find Laurel. She's standing at the edge of the dance floor, an odd, penetrating look on her face.

Diggle and Carly couldn't decide between chocolate and red velvet, so Oliver told them to get both. He chooses the chocolate, however, and can't imagine how the other could possibly be better considering the frosting on this one has hazelnut mixed into it.

He's just turning to ask Laurel if she likes it when he hears a commotion on the dance floor. He turns to see Felicity leaning forward slightly, her skin splotched red and a hand at her throat. Oliver drops his plate and charges over without a thought, physically pushing indignant people out of the way as he goes.

"Felicity?" Raymond says in a panicked tone. "Felicity what's happening?" He's lowering her to the ground just as Oliver gets there and Oliver drops to his knees in front of her and cradles her face in his hands so she looks at him.

"Felicity, tell me what's wrong," he commands calmly. She points to the mangled piece of chocolate cake on the ground and Oliver knows instantly: the nut allergy. He's up and on his feet in an instant, running over to where her purse hangs off the back of her chair and rifling through it until he finds the epinephrine shot she always carries. He's just standing up, shot in hand, when he hears a startled female scream and the sounds of Raymond panicking.

"Felicity! Felicity!" Raymond yells. He's kneeling over her when Oliver reaches them, oblivious to the crowd.

"Call an ambulance," Oliver says as he grabs Raymond by the shoulder and unceremoniously shoves him out of the way. He drops to his knees, straddling Felicity's right leg, and tries not to think about how alarming it is that she's already lost consciousness. He pulls the skirt of her dress up and then stabs the shot into the side of her thigh. He holds it there and then replaces the needle with his hand, kneading her skin like he saw her do that one time the thai restaurant they always order from accidentally used peanut oil. He leans down to check her pulse and make sure she's breathing before sitting back on his heels.

"How did this happen?" Oliver demands after Raymond gets off the phone. "She's always so careful."

"It was my fault," Raymond says shakily and Oliver can't tell if it's from fear or because he's a little drunk. "I wanted her to try my cake and I just forgot." Oliver reacts without thinking, the material of Raymond's shirt is suddenly crumpled in his hand. He can hear the frightened gasps of some of the people around them as he roughly brings Raymond's face to within an inch of his so the other man is standing bent in half.

"You've been dating her for almost a year and you just _forgot_?" he demands. His voice is cold, pure Hood, and it clearly has an effect judging by the look on Raymond's face.

But all that rage immediately dissipates as Oliver feels Felicity's hand slide up his arm.

"Oliver?" she says weakly. He releases Raymond's shirt without another word and turns to Felicity.

"Hey," he says softly and leans down to brush the hair out of her face.

"Hey," she whispers and smiles. They stay that way a moment—Oliver leaning over her with his hand resting in her hair and Felicity's hand gripping the lapel of his jacket—until Diggle's voice reminds Oliver that they're in the middle of a crowd.

"You really know how to end a party, Felicity," he jokes. She laughs and smacks a hand over her face.

Oliver moves off of her then but only far enough to crouch at her side. Felicity tries to sit up and nearly falls back, but Oliver reaches out to catch her and then decides to just pick her up. She squeaks in surprise as he lifts her up, but she doesn't struggle. He starts to carry her toward the hotel when he hears Raymond mutter something. He turns and raises an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Shouldn't we wait for the paramedics down here?" he suggests feebly.

"Good idea, buddy," Oliver replies spitefully, "you wait down here and I'll take her upstairs to lie down."

He's turning to leave when he feels Felicity trying to squirm out of his arms.

"Oliver, no, it's okay," Felicity argues. "If you bring me upstairs they're gonna have to bring me right back down again in a stretcher and that is just embarrassing."

"I'm at least taking you to the lobby," he says and doesn't wait for her answer. Raymond falls in step next to him looking meek and Oliver deliberately starts to walk faster when he reaches out to place a comforting hand on Felicity.

Once they're indoors, he heads for the comfy couches in the corner of the lobby and sets Felicity down on the biggest one. He moves to take a seat on a nearby chair when she holds out a hand.

"Oliver, really, you don't have to wait here," she says, sounding exhausted.

"Are you sure?" he asks and sends a murderous glance in Raymond's direction.

"Yes," she says and grabs his hand. "Thank you," she says sincerely, "for everything."

"Of course," he says and squeezes her hand.

"Now go away, Oliver" she says lightly, "I already want to die of embarrassment and I don't need you here as a reminder that I had to be _carried_ out of Diggle's wedding."

Oliver chuckles and shakes his head as Felicity shuts her eyes to rest. He scowls one last time at Raymond and walks away to the sounds of the nebbish apologizing profusely to a far too forgiving Felicity.

He heads back to the party, but the scene really has put an end to the celebration and the remaining guests are gathering their things. Diggle, Carly and a visibly upset AJ are making their way up the stairs to the hotel and they meet in the middle of the staircase.

"How's she doing?" Diggle asks, "this little guy was worried," he adds and runs a hand over AJ's head. Oliver crouches down so he can look into the little boy's eyes.

"Felicity's going to be just fine, ok?" he says softly and rubs his hand comfortingly up and down AJ's arm. "I think she's mostly just mortified," he continues and stands upright again. "I suspect the only lasting effect is going to be her repeatedly apologizing to you for the next few months."

"Good thing we'll be on a tropical island for the next two weeks then," Diggle says and leans down to kiss Carly on the temple.

"Ah, yes, you leave tomorrow right? You guys enjoy yourselves."

"We will," Diggle says excitedly and they move away.

"Told you we should have just stuck with the red velvet," Carly says teasingly as they go.

"Yeah, yeah," Diggle replies affectionately.

Oliver is just about to turn back to the hotel and head back to the room when he spots Felicity's purse still hanging on the back of her chair. He walks over and picks it up and then heads back into the lobby, glad to have an excuse to check up on her one more time. He arrives to see Diggle pulling AJ away from her so the paramedics can keep working. All she can do is slump her shoulders and tilt her head in thanks when Oliver holds up her purse because they've hooked her up to an oxygen mask. He points at his own face and makes a thumbs up sign and she sticks her tongue out at him.

It's not until he finds Laurel sitting in their room, looking downright furious that he remembers that he left her down on the dance floor.

"Oliver, we need to talk," she says and stalks toward him the moment he's closed the door.

"What about?" he asks, confused.

"About you and that girl you keep saying is just a friend," she replies, her tone angry.

"She _is_ just a friend, Laurel, there's nothing to talk about," he intones flatly and turns away.

"Yes, there is," she says and blocks him. "Whatever that was downstairs, that was not 'just friends.' Are you sleeping with her?"

"Ha!" he laughs incredulously, "I'm not sleeping with Felicity. That's absurd."

"No, it's not, Ollie," she replies coolly. "Every time we see her, you practically fall all over yourself to get her attention."

"That's not true," he responds dismissively.

"Yes, it is," Laurel presses, "every time I step away, I come back and find you two being all 'friendly.'"

"Well, with the way you leave to answer every single time your beloved boss calls, I have to find something to do."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she says indignantly.

"I'm just saying that you're the one who started in on this ridiculous line of questioning, Laurel, maybe you're projecting."

"How dare you?" she says disgustedly and pushes him in the chest. "Don't put this on me, Ollie. I may have been too naive to see the patterns years ago, but I'm used to them now." She walks across the room before continuing, like she can't even stand to be near him. "You're constantly lying to me, running off to God knows where at all hours of the night. So if it's not her, it's someone else."

"There is no one else, Laurel," Oliver says wearily and rubs his eyes with his hand. "I've got businesses, plural, to run."

"Well, so did Tommy and he...," but she stops herself when she realizes what she's said, looking horrified that she's brought up the one subject they spend so much time avoiding.

And that's the moment, right there. It's that slip that makes Oliver realize what's been holding them back.

It's not just the cheating or Sara or the Hood or even Tommy, it's all of it. It's their history. Everything that's passed between them is piled so high they can't even see each other anymore. But it's also that they both expect something that the other can't possibly give—and it's crushing them. She wants him to be like Tommy and he wants her to be the girl he thought about on the island. And neither one can live up to that. So, when they started up again, neither really tried; they fell right back into their old patterns.

Oliver has always lied to Laurel, it's habit. He just went on doing it. And why would she expect anything different really? The Laurel he dated before the island might have swallowed down any doubts, but she's different now. So is he, but he hasn't shown her that. He's still acting like the self-obsessed playboy she always knew, the same idiot who hid whole aspects of his life from her. The only thing that's changed is the why. For one brief moment, he considers telling her everything. Just laying it all out on the table right there.

But then he looks at her standing there, the stern expression on her face the same as the one she wears in court, and he knows it wouldn't even matter. They have different concepts of justice. She loves the law, she believes in it and he can't fault her for that. If Starling City ever has any real chance of improving, it has to be through the law. The Hood is there until it catches up. For now, the city needs something else, something radical that can hold people accountable when the law fails. Telling her might change her concept of him, but for her, the Hood is a rebuff to everything she believes in.

"I think this trip was a mistake," he says.

"Me too," she replies sadly. "I'm going to head back to SC. I'll call downstairs for a cab."

"Don't be silly," Oliver responds. "I doubt you'll find one who'll make the drive. I can take you. I'd honestly rather not stay here."

She objects again, but Oliver finally convinces her and they're checked out and on the road an hour and a half later. The ride back is quiet, but surprisingly not awkward. The fight was a long time coming and now that they've had it, it's like the pressure is off. They don't have to keep trying so hard not to disappoint each other.

They pull up to her building shortly before midnight and Oliver helps her carry her things into the elevator and then steps out, making it clear he doesn't intend to follow her upstairs—and she doesn't ask him to.

"I'm sorry things had to end this way," Laurel says.

"Me too," Oliver replies softly. Their voices are sincere, but there isn't any regret in either of them.

"Bye Laurel," Oliver says.

"Bye Ollie," she replies and then the doors shut.

As Oliver drives home, he's struck by how little sadness he actually feels. He still cares for Laurel, he wants her to be happy, he just doesn't want to be the one who tries to do it. He wishes Tommy were still there to do it.

God he misses Tommy. It's funny how the missing strikes at the weirdest times. At first it was little things. Like the first time he had to make a decision about the club and took out his phone to ask Tommy's opinion and didn't realize he couldn't until he'd already dialed. That kind of thing happens less and less now, it's the reminders that Tommy will only ever be part of his past that strike now and they're always so much more forceful. Like today, there was a moment while Diggle's best man gave a toast when he remembered how Tommy used to joke about bringing up all their years of debauchery during his. And now it will never happen.

Oliver pulls into the driveway ready to go straight to bed, but as if the night weren't bad enough, he catches a half-naked Thea straddling an equally unclothed Roy Harper on the sitting room couch. He's just considering that he's too tired to chastise them when Roy gives him a petulant look of defiance and he decides that maybe he isn't too tired. He barely allows Roy to collect his shirt before unceremoniously throwing him out the front door.

"What are you even doing home, Ollie?" Thea demands like he's the one who did something wrong. "I thought you and Laurel were staying the night at the hotel."

"Change of plans," he says and crosses his arms. Thea immediately tilts her head, disapproval written in her features.

"Ollie, what did you do?"

" _I_ didn't do anything. It was a mutual decision," he replies defensively.

"Uh-huh," she says skeptically. "Well, I'm sure you guys'll figure it out," she adds and waves a hand.

"I don't think so," Oliver corrects, though he wonders why he bothered because Thea gets that look in her eye that says she won't stop prying until she gets every last detail.

"Ok, seriously, what did you do? Is there some other girl or something? Is that why you're always out so late?" Damn it, was he really that bad before the island?

"Listen, Speedy, I'm exhausted," he sighs and rubs his face. "Can we save the interrogation for tomorrow morning?"

"Fine," she says and the determination in her expression tells him his best option is probably to sneak out of his bedroom window as soon as the sun rises.

It's as he's going to bed, thinking about the fact that both Laurel and Thea have chalked up his late nights to another woman that he remembers how this whole fight started: Felicity. He supposes they're not entirely wrong. Technically, she is the person he's spending that time with, it's just that Diggle's always there too and there's nothing romantic about chasing down Starling City's most corrupt. He tries to dismiss the idea for the pure absurdity it is and go to sleep, but he ends up laying in the darkness, mind racing.

Felicity's his partner, his friend, he's never thought of her that way. Though she clearly has if all those Freudian slips are anything to judge by.

But that's beside the point.

It's not that he doesn't think she's beautiful—she looked radiant today—it's just that they work together and she's got a boyfriend. Though that's certainly never stopped him before.

No.

He shakes his head and to remind himself that's also beside the point.

They are colleagues and friends. Nothing more. Their relationship is no different than the one he shares with Diggle. He cringes as the image of himself carrying Diggle into the hotel lobby pops into his head.

Ok, maybe not exactly the same, but Laurel is still wrong about them. There's nothing there besides friendship.

The idea of anything else is totally ridiculous.

* * *

Oliver dreams of Felicity that night.

He doesn't realize it isn't real until it's over. Though he should have considering he doesn't remember going to bed naked.

In it, he's finally about to fall asleep when he hears the sound of his bedroom door opening and closing. He sits up and flicks on a light, expecting to defend himself against an attacker until he sees Felicity standing there instead. She's not dressed the way he last saw her, instead she's wearing her usual prim work attire. She gives her mischievous, dimpled smile and looks at him over the frames of her glasses.

"Felicity?" he starts, "What are you doing here?" She doesn't answer though, just walks slowly toward his bed, pulling the edges of her blouse (the color the same as the lavender sundress she wore to Diggle's wedding) out from under the hem of her black pencil skirt. "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice raspy because his throat is suddenly dry. She stops a few feet from his bed and Oliver is hit by how much he wants her to close that distance.

"I felt you watching me all day," she says low and sultry as she unbuttons the blouse. Oliver opens his mouth to defend himself but gasps instead when Felicity pulls her shirt open and reveals the bra beneath. The lacy material is the same dark green shade as his Hood gear. She smirks and lets the blouse slide off her shoulders to the floor. "I know how much you liked touching me, protecting me, carrying me away from Edward," she says and she pushes her skirt down so the material pools around her feet. Her panties match the bra and the sight of that color, _his_ color, covering the most intimate places on Felicity's body is so arousing that Oliver feels a little dizzy.

"How?" he pants. Her smile widens and she takes off her glasses to toss them to the side before answering.

"Because I liked it too," she replies and pulls the elastic band out of her hair. She shakes her head gently so the loose curls fall against her shoulders and Oliver decides it is, by far, the most mesmerizingly sexy thing he's ever seen.

Felicity closes the distance between herself and the bed; her eyes lock with Oliver’s as she pauses at the foot and reaches out to pull his blankets down until his body is completely uncovered. Her eyes leave his for a moment as she glances down at his lap and when they meet his again, she's biting her lip and smiling. She kicks off her heels, climbs up onto the bed and crawls toward him on hands and knees until her lips are almost pressed to his. She's straddling him, but barely an inch of her skin is touching his as she braces her hands on the headboard so she's hovering just out of reach. Oliver feels her breath on his lips and he can’t wait any longer.

"Felicity," he exhales and pulls her down against him. Her lips are soft but insistent and he can't believe how much he likes the taste of them. He slides his hand toward the clasp of her bra, but she pulls away, her hands pressing gently against his shoulders. For the first time in his memory, her bright pink lipstick is slightly smudged and Oliver smiles knowing he's responsible. But he doesn't get the chance to linger on that thought because Felicity grinds against him and he growls at the heat of her arousal pressed against his. She smiles and leans down to press a kiss to the side of his neck, her teeth nipping at the skin. He tries to return the favor, but she's retreating from his grasp as her lips leave a trail of kisses down his body. Her path is stamped into his skin by her bright lipstick and he moans her name when he realizes where that trail will end.

She smiles up at him and her lips are just about to reach the place he most wants to see that fuchsia color smeared onto his skin when he wakes up. Hard and sweating and gasping for air. The images are still so fresh and vivid in his mind that Oliver looks around half expecting to find Felicity in the room with him and he's disappointed when he doesn’t. He lays back and tries to slow his breathing, but his body aches from how much he wishes she were in his bed.

Maybe Laurel was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I'd love some feedback. It's always so helpful for inspiration.


	4. No Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter. Two things. First, I must thank the amazing redtoes for providing indispensable feedback and trying very hard to save a man's life. I must warn you, things get pretty violent in this chapter, but after a lot of thought, I felt it was necessary. I hope you can still enjoy what I've written. Second, thank you to everyone who commented and read. This fic is what it is because of you and I can't express enough how much I appreciate it.

After a morning spent trying and failing to avoid Thea, Oliver heads to Verdant. His first dream about Felicity was, unfortunately, not his last and he needs to work off some energy. He doesn't expect to encounter anybody in the lair. Diggle is, of course, on his honeymoon and a certain IT girl and her stupid boyfriend are making a vacation out of the wedding weekend.

So, he's too busy trying not to think about a particularly delectable dream that took place on the exercise mats to notice Felicity sitting behind her desk until it's too late. He freezes when he sees her and tries to sneak away, hoping her usual laser focus will keep her from noticing he's there. But then he accidentally backs into a newly purchased box of arrows and the sound of the contents clattering to the ground is almost deafening.

Felicity whips around in her chair with a little yelp and stands; she looks just as shocked to see him as he was to see her.

"Oliver!" she starts, "What are you doing here?" she asks nervously and fidgets. "I thought you and Laurel were staying at the hotel?"

"Change of plans," Oliver answers and tries very hard not to think about how, as fantastic as his dreams were, Felicity is still more beautiful in real life.

"What about you?" he inquires as he ambles toward her. "I thought you and Raymond—" but he stops when he notices her eyes are red."Have you...have you been crying?" he asks worriedly and puts his hand on her arm, her eyes watching the movement the whole way.

"Oh, um, yeah" she says and turns back to him, her face a little flushed. She self-consciously swipes a hand under her eyes before continuing. "Edward and I broke up," she adds matter-of-factly. Oliver's hand tightens on her arm and he has to fight the grin threatening to break across his face.

"I'm sorry," Oliver says and he only manages to sound like he means it because he genuinely doesn't like seeing her upset. "If it makes you feel any better, yours wasn't the only relationship that fell victim to Diggle's wedding." Her eyes widen in surprise and her forehead crinkles in concern.

"Oh, Oliver, I'm so sorry," she consoles, as if she's forgotten about her own pain. Oliver shrugs and crosses his arms.

"It was a long time coming," he says impassively. "Though I'll have to have a word with Diggle about not inviting me to his next wedding," he jokes and he's glad that it elicits the barest of chuckles from her. "At least now you don't have to feel so bad about what happened at the reception," he says encouragingly, "think of it as a preemptive strike."

"Yeah, right," she says bitterly and Felicity looks so miserable that Oliver can't help himself. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in for a hug, his chin resting on her shoulder and his eyes closed.

"Um, Oliver? What's this for?" she asks, her body stiff and her arms sticking out instead of returning the gesture.

"I just think you're such a good friend and I hope you get everything you want in life because you deserve to be happy. You really are remarkable." The words tumble out much like one of Felicity's own rambles, but he needs her to know it because it's true.

"Thank you for remarking on it," she whispers, remembering. And then her arms wrap around his neck and she relaxes against him and his senses are full of her.

She's soft and warm and he catches hints of jasmine in the scent of her hair. He hears her sigh and remembers the dream he had just before waking up this morning. There was no sex in this one, just Felicity waking with a sigh while snuggled in his arms. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled when she saw him. The morning sunlight bathed her face in such a beautiful golden glow that he couldn't help but lean down and kiss her. It would be so easy to turn his head now and press his lips to the side of her neck, taste the skin there.

Oliver's eyes snap open and he steps back, clearing his throat nervously and looking anywhere but at her.

"So, uh, what should we do to celebrate being newly single?" he asks, trying to sound carefree.

"Well, I've got a pint of ice cream and a big back catalogue on my DVR to get through, but I'm open to suggestions," she replies.

"How about we go out into the field?" he suggests playfully. "Take down a bad guy."

"I like the sound of that," she says with a grin and then sits in her chair. "Let's see who might need some arrowing," she adds and then swivels toward her screens. Oliver steps up behind her, taking the opportunity to unabashedly stare at her as she works.

He's always found the look of steely determination Felicity gets when she's working sort of adorable, but he finds it especially fascinating now. Despite insisting on ordering high-end, ergonomically designed desk chairs during the renovation, she always leans forward slightly when she's working. Her eyes are narrowed in concentration as her fingers fly over the keys and Oliver can barely follow the stream of images and text that flash across the screen. Every once in awhile, her right hand comes up to brush through her hair or tuck a loose curl behind her ear. Usually, when her hair is up, she just glides it over the top, but Oliver finds this both more enjoyable and more maddening. He's just reaching out to tuck the persistent curl behind her ear again when she sits back with a sigh.

"Ok," she says and points to the screen, "this is Julian Saverin." Oliver finally tears his eyes from her to look at the picture. He looks like quite a bruiser; he's even scowling, as if he knew this candid photo would be the one the Hood used to target him.

"I think I've heard of him," he says with a frown. "Laurel mentioned that the last two DA's have tried and failed to get enough evidence to take him down. But I thought he was a legitimate businessman? I've definitely seen him at Starling City high society events."

"He never gets his hands dirty," Felicity says, "he's got layer upon layer of underlings between him and the illegal parts of his business, but he's still the one pulling the strings. According to the files Detective, I mean, Officer Lance sent us, he's involved in drug trafficking, black market firearms, even a little human trafficking" she explains and the corner of her mouth quirks in disgust. "This guy's as dirty as the come."

"So how do we get him?" Oliver asks, crossing his arms and setting his jaw in determination.

"Lucky for us, he's throwing a fundraiser tonight," she says with a sly smile.

"That doesn't sound like typical criminal activity."

"It does when you dig into the supposed 'charity' and discover that the money is being funneled into his empire."

"Hmm, still, a fundraiser isn't the ideal time for a Hood appearance," Oliver says skeptically.

"No, but I don't think it's as simple as an arrow with this guy," Felicity says and rests her chin on her knuckles as she turns to stare up at him. "If you take him down, the criminal side of his business could still carry on like it always has, it'll just be decentralized."

"What are you proposing we do then?" he asks with a tilt of his head.

"That's where you come in," she says with a mischievous smile and Oliver is glad she turns back to her computer because he doesn't know what he might have done if she had kept looking at him like that. "The party is at his restaurant in the Glades."

"Restaurant?" he says skeptically.

"Inherited it from his father. He built his whole empire from it. He mostly directs his criminal activities from his office there even though he's probably got a nice little minimalist box like yours at his company headquarters."

"Hey," Oliver says defensively, but she just rolls her eyes at him.

"Anyway, we use your name to get into the party, you sneak away at some point to attach a bug to his computer and we'll get access to his entire network."

"And what exactly are you doing while I do all the dirty work?"

"I'll be playing the role of your 'personal assistant,'" she says with air quotes. Felicity goes on to say something about how that will keep people from asking questions when she's staring at her tablet all night so she can break into Saverin's security system and then hack into his computer, but all he can think about is how he and Tommy used to consider it a requirement to try to seduce any and all "personal assistants." He'd never once failed to do so.

"Hello? Earth to Oliver," Felicity says and waves a hand in his face. His eyes refocus and he looks at her questioningly. "I said what do you think?" she repeats, a little annoyed.

"Let's do it," he says huskily and then clears his throat when he realizes what he's said. Felicity's face goes red and she turns away from him and mutters, "that's usually my line," before focusing on her screen again.

They spend a few hours in the lair—Oliver training and Felicity getting all possible intel and gear they might need for tonight—before they go their separate ways to get ready for the party.

Oliver rushes home, showers and changes into a new suit, making sure to wear the hooded part of his gear underneath his shirt so he can use it when he's sneaking around Saverin's house later. The party starts at 7, so he told Felicity he'd arrive at her apartment at a quarter of so they would be fashionably late. He still manages to arrive early and when he calls to see if she's ready, she apologizes and says she needs a few more minutes. He parks the car and then steps around to the passenger door, pacing in front of it so he can open it for her when she appears.

Adrenaline pumps through his veins the way it does whenever he's about to go on a first date. But this isn't a first date. This is just a mission. They've both _just_ broken up with other people; if there is ever going to be a right moment to say that her little crush is no longer unrequited, this won't be it.

But then Felicity suddenly appears at the top of her stoop in a black cocktail dress with her hair down and her glasses off and Oliver decides that all bets are off.

"Sorry about that," she says and trips lightly down the stairs, "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

He manages to pull himself together before she notices him gaping at her and opens the door.

"Thanks," she says and she's stepping into the car when he automatically reaches out, slides his hand around her stomach to her waist and leans down to kiss her on the cheek. He pulls back and she turns to him, stunned.

"You look beautiful," he says, trying and failing to make it sound casual.

"Thanks," Felicity says breathily. She glances down at his mouth and does that thing where she licks her lips and rubs them together to make sure her lipstick is even and Oliver has to step back.

"We should get going," he says stiffly and takes his hand from around her to firmly place it on the corner of the car door. Felicity eases into the car in a seeming daze and Oliver reminds himself to be more careful the rest of the night.

She fidgets for the first few seconds of the ride and then finally turns on the radio. Typically, she immediately tunes it to her favorite radio station, but she pauses as the sounds of the CD Oliver is playing come on.

"You're listening to it," she says contentedly. "I told you you'd like them."

"They're growing on me," he responds and briefly turns to give her a smile. "I like that 'Lion' song you mentioned, but I think my favorite is 'White Blank Page.'"

"You would like the broodier tracks," she says and rolls her eyes.

"Laurel said the same thing," he replies. He doesn't realize he's mentioned her until he sees Felicity tense out of the corner of his eye. She's watching him warily as if she's waiting for him to have some sort of explosion. "Felicity, I'm fine," he says with a sigh and sees her relax slightly.

"So what happened between you two?" she asks and leans toward him. His shoulders tense and she quickly adds, "if you don't mind me asking," in an apologetic tone. Oliver shifts uncomfortably, staring straight ahead while he tries to think of an explanation that isn't simply the word, "you."

"There was just too much history there," he says semi-truthfully. "We both changed while I was gone; we just didn't make sense anymore," he says almost clinically.

"And you're ok with that?" she asks, surprised.

"Yes," he says firmly.

"Huh," she huffs and sits back in her seat. "Lucky you," she adds a little bitterly and then turns from him to stare forward dejectedly.

"Are you ok?" Oliver asks softly.

"I'm fine," she replies with a heavy sigh.

"What happened?" he starts tentatively. "Things seemed to be going pretty well yesterday—until the cake, of course." Felicity squirms in her seat and looks down into her lap to where she's wringing her hands.

"We got into a fight last night," she says flatly. "Things got heated."

"Well, I don't know what he could have been mad about," Oliver says, annoyed. "He's the one who screwed up."

"Yeah," she agrees, but she doesn't sound like she's listening. Felicity stays sullen and pensive the rest of the ride and it's so unlike her usual demeanor that Oliver can't help but find it a little unnerving. She seems to snap out of her funk when they pull up to Saverin's restaurant, taking her tablet out of her purse and shifting in her seat to look more businesslike. Oliver forgoes the valet, preferring to park near the back of the building so they can make a quick getaway, if need be.

He didn't necessarily receive an invite to this event, but it's a charity function and he's Oliver Queen so the woman checking names at the door just smiles and welcomes him when they walk up. The mood inside is elegant, expensive, but the restaurant's usual decor is rustic and full of history and Felicity comments on how it's actually a strangely pleasant mix of homeyness and class.

"Unlike its owner," she mutters under her breath and nods her head toward a far corner of the room. Oliver turns and sees Saverin standing in the direction she indicated. The latter seems to spot him at precisely the same moment and unceremoniously ends the conversation he's having by simply walking way from the other person without apology.

"Well, well, Oliver Queen," Saverin's voice booms out cross the room, "Now I know this event is going to be a success."

"It's a worthy cause," Oliver lies and shakes Saverin's outstretched hand.

"And who's your date?" he says and runs his eyes lasciviously over Felicity.

"My personal assistant," Oliver corrects and steps in between them slightly to block Saverin's gaze. "No rest for the weary."

"I prefer no rest for the wicked," Saverin quips and gives Oliver a wolffish grin that he probably would have returned pre-island. Now, however, it just pisses him off. "Felicity," he says and turns to her, "I've just remembered, Walter called me about a group of Japanese investors coming in Thursday. Would you mind coordinating with his assistant and making a dinner reservation for that night?"

"Of course, Mr. Queen," she says with a nod and walks off in the direction of a cluster of tables in the corner. Much to Oliver's annoyance, Saverin turns his head and watches her go.

"I should put you in charge of hiring my secretaries, Queen, she's a hot little number."

"Ugh," Oliver hears Felicity groan through his comm, "I am really going to enjoy ruining that guy's life."

"I retain my skills for personal use," Oliver says smugly for Saverin's benefit and smirks for Felicity's when she turns to give him a disgusted look.

"Too bad," Saverin replies. "Well, I've got to mingle. I better see your name at the top of the donor list," he adds and claps Oliver on the shoulder.

"I make no guarantees," Oliver says cordially and waits until Saverin is out of earshot. "Have you broken into the security system?" he intones lowly.

"Almost there," Felicity responds. Oliver wanders the floor for a minute or two as she works and grabs two champagne glasses from a passing waiter. "Got it," she says triumphantly. "Looks like the hallway outside of his office is unguarded, but there are cameras everywhere—including in his office."

"So how do I get in?" Oliver asks as he sidles up next to her at the tall table where she's working.

"Thanks," she says absently as he sets down the champagne glass near her tablet. "I'm tapping into the feed now and recording some footage to put on a loop while you're in the office. I'll watch the live feed and keep a lookout."

Oliver quietly sips his champagne and muses over the fact that the way Felicity chews on her bottom lip as she concentrates is profoundly distracting. He smiles when she picks up her glass, drinks from it, places it down and then threads the same hand through her hair—all the while never breaking eye contact with her tablet. He's actually startled when she suddenly turns to him.

"Ok, you should be all set," she says seriously. She reaches up to the decoy bluetooth device in her ear and pretends the rest of their conversation is a phone call. "Walk through that door over there and walk straight down the hall. Saverin's office is at the end of the shorter corridor that's in the middle of that hall. I'll direct you if you get lost."

"Got it," Oliver replies and takes his phone out of his pocket and pretends to answer it, as planned. He drops the act once he's out of sight of the party and reaches into his shirt and slips his hood over his head before moving on. The door to the office is locked when he reaches it, but it's nothing a little lock-picking can't fix.

"Ok," Felicity says once he's inside the office, "now just turn on his computer, hook up the device and I'll check to make sure it has everything we need."

"You know, I was there when we made up the plan, Felicity," Oliver teases. "I know what to do."

"Hey, remember that time you tried to adjust the volume on the computers and it turned into me having to redo half of our security settings?" she asks impatiently.

"Point taken."

After a few minutes spent breaking through Saverin's security measures and starting the download of information to the servers in the lair, Felicity gives him the all clear to leave.

"Good, I'll meet you back at the table in a few minutes," Oliver replies.

He gives Saverin's desk a final once over to make sure it looks the way it did when he found it and then shuts off the light. He opens the door and is immediately confronted with Saverin standing at the entrance to the hall with a handgun aimed right at him.

"Stay where you are," he commands and Oliver is at least thankful that all but the top edge of his hood is still hidden in the shadows of the office.

"Oliver?" Felicity says in panic. "What's happening?"

"You think I'm stupid enough to leave that room unprotected?" Saverin rumbles.

"Damn it," Felicity swears, "he must have slipped back there when I was hacking into his computer. Can you get out of there?"

"No," Oliver replies and the answer happens to work for both conversations.

"So you thought you could just walk into my office and take what you want and I wouldn't care?" Saverin says angrily.

Oliver doesn't respond, just tries to figure out if he's fast enough to dodge into the room before the bullet can hit him.

"Looks like you should have brought your bow and arrow, Robin Hood," Saverin mocks.

Oliver’s about to try to dive behind the wall when, out of nowhere, Felicity comes sprinting into the hall and punches Saverin so hard that he crumbles to the floor in a daze before he can manage to fire. The gun clatters to the ground and before he can reach it, Felicity picks it up and bashes him in the head, knocking him out cold. She drops the gun and turns toward Oliver, looking stunned at what she’s just done and he can't help but laugh.

"That was incredible!" he yells and runs toward her. The sound of her laughter mingles with his and he grabs her hand so they can sprint out of there together. But they don’t make it farther than the alley behind the building because they’re laughing so hard.

"Who would have thought the head of Starling City’s biggest criminal empire would have a glass jaw?" Felicity gasps out.

"Who would have thought you would have the right hook of a prizefighter?" Oliver responds. "Is your hand ok?" he asks and lifts it up so he can see, realizing he never dropped it.

"I didn’t feel a thing!" she replies and their laughter breaks anew. Oliver looks over at Felicity, leaning against the brick wall of the headquarters of one of the city's most powerful criminals because she’s laughing so hard, and she’s so wonderful that he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s already done it.

In the first moments after he presses his lips to hers, Felicity's body tenses and Oliver thinks he's made the biggest mistake of his life. But then her lips part and she leans up to put her arms around his neck and he thinks that he's never felt happier. He wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her up because even in heels she's still so little. Her legs come up to wrap around his waist and her fingers rake through his hair. He turns them and she moans against his lips when he slams her against the wall. Oliver shouldn’t be so surprised at how passionate she is considering 90% of the things Felicity says to him can be misconstrued as sexual, but feeling that she wants him just as much as he wants her is a bigger turn on than any of the dreams he had last night.

Their embrace is cut short as someone bursts through the door they came through only moments ago, voice raised. Oliver reluctantly sets Felicity down and kicks the door right into the guy's face before grabbing her hand again.

"Come on!" he yells and this time, they don’t stop running until they reach his car.

They get in and Oliver sets off toward her apartment, smirking to himself about the fact that his personal assistant streak will remain unbroken. He looks over at Felicity and smiles and she smiles back, though she seems a little anxious so he reaches out and places a hand on her knee and she jumps a bit at the contact. He lets his hand rest there for a moment and then gives her knee a quick squeeze before he places it back on the wheel.

"Huh," he says, suddenly realizing he won't have to just watch her walk up the stairs tonight, "I've never seen the inside of your apartment before."

"Yeah," she replies absently and shifts in the seat. Oliver decides to keep talking, hoping it will make her less nervous. "We were supposed to come to your Super Bowl party, but then the DA broke that rico case and Laurel had to work all weekend. Digg said you and Eddie put on a great party though." He glances over, trying to be encouraging, but she's staring straight ahead and all he gets in response is a quiet, "I remember."

He turns his attention back to the road and tries not to let Felicity's sudden silence bother him, but the next time he looks at her, he sees that not only is Felicity upset, she’s on the verge of tears. "Felicity?" he starts and reaches out to her, but she flinches away from his touch. When they pull up to her building, she practically flies out of the car and he scrambles to turn it off and catch up to her.

"Felicity, wait!" Oliver says as he runs up the stairs of her stoop. She tries to open the door before he reaches her, but she takes too long trying to find her keys in her purse and he steps up just as she's sliding them into the lock. He rests his hand on the door so she can't open it and leans toward her, trying to see her face.

"Felicity, what's wrong?" he asks and gently turns her chin toward him. She pulls her face from his grip and backs against the door, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks as she stares at her feet.

"I can't do this, Oliver," she says and shakes her head.

"Can't do what?" he pleads, trying not to let fear seep into his voice. "I'm sorry I kissed you," he offers, "I won't do it again. It was a stupid, impulsive mistake." Felicity cringes and shuts her eyes, putting her hands over her ears as if she's trying to shut him out. "Felicity," he says calmly and gently cups her face with his hand. Her eyes snap open and he leans down so she's forced to look at him. "Please tell me what's wrong," he implores.

"I can't work with you anymore, Oliver," she says despondently. He exhales sharply, like she's just punched him in the chest.

"Felicity, please don't do this," he says, unable to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"I have to," she says with a sob. "I need you to stay away from me, Oliver."

"No, Felicity, please. It'll never happen again. It meant nothing."

"I need you to stay away from me, Oliver!" she yells in her Loud Voice and he steps back immediately his hands raised as if to show he means her no harm.

"Please, Oliver, let me go," she begs and curls toward the door, slumping against it. She turns the key in the lock and wrenches open the door. She runs through the foyer and as he always has, Oliver watches until her hand disappears from the bannister as she rushes up the stairs.

The sound of the front door clicking closed finally snaps him out of his shock. He turns and looks at the street and realizes he doesn't know what to do. He contemplates climbing up the fire escape right then and breaking through her bedroom window, but he knows that won't solve anything. He'll give her the space she needs—at least until tomorrow.

Oliver descends the stairs in a daze. He doesn't really remember driving home, all of a sudden he's pulling into the garage at the Queen mansion and turning off the engine. Somehow, he makes it upstairs to his room and climbs into bed, but he doesn't sleep. He replays everything he and Felicity said to each other that day, desperately trying to understand why she was so upset.

He finally falls asleep, exhausted, hours later. He dreams of Felicity again. Except this time, they're all nightmares about her leaving or dying during a mission. He wakes up more than once in a cold sweat, whimpering in terror.

* * *

Yet none of his nightmares are as horrifying as the email Oliver receives just before 5pm the next day.

It's a short missive from the head of the IT Department regretfully informing him that the IT Specialist he typically contacts, one Ms. Smoak, tendered her resignation today. He goes on to say something about her being available through the next two weeks before starting a position elsewhere and contacting a Mr. Edward Raymond for all further inquiries because he will be taking over her position.

He has to read it four times to fully comprehend what it's saying, but even when it finally dawns on him, he doesn't believe it. He sits stiff-backed in his chair, hands gripping the edge of his desk and his mouth hanging open in shock as he tries to come to terms with the idea of Felicity leaving QC. The longer he thinks about it, the more he can feel himself actually growing nauseated. He stands and leans over the trashcan next to his desk and tries to stop the bile from rising up his throat.

This is unthinkable. When she said she couldn't do this anymore, he'd assumed she meant just the Hood part of his life, but the idea that what she wants is a full break, that last night might be the last time they ever speak is beyond Oliver's comprehension. Especially after getting a taste of what they could be. It may have only been a few moments, but they are as powerful as anything that happened to him on the island. He wants to kiss her again. He needs to. He needs her.

Oliver pushes off his desk and strides toward his office door, bursting through it and barely pausing to tell his secretary that he's leaving for the day on his way to the elevator. He punches the button for Felicity's floor and paces around the confined space like a caged animal throughout the ride. Finally, the car arrives on the correct floor and the doors are barely open before he's charging toward Felicity's office. But he doesn't find her there, so he accosts her supervisor, leaving the man slightly bewildered as he heads to the conference room where she's supposedly on a conference call with a major client.

He flings the door open without knocking, but freezes when he realizes Felicity's not alone in the room. She stands and turns to him and her unhappiness at seeing him is written all over her face.

"Ms. Smoak," he says formally, "I need to speak to you." Felicity frowns, but doesn't move toward the door.

"Joshua," she says cordially into the speakerphone's mic, "would you mind holding for a moment?"

"Of course," the voice on the other end says, sounding a little confused. Felicity presses the mute button and fixes Oliver with a furious teacher look.

"What can I do for you Mr. Queen?" she asks coolly and crosses her arms, clearly not intending to simply follow him out of the room. Oliver grinds his teeth and has to struggle not to grab her arm and drag her out.

"I'm having some technical issues," he lies.

"Steven," she says and points to a man sitting to her left, "would you please help Mr. Queen?" The man starts to stand, but Oliver holds out a hand.

"I'd prefer you," he says intensely and she blushes, looking around nervously before her eyes land on Raymond and she flinches. Oliver finally notices him then and the look of anger and annoyance on that little idiot's face is so infuriating that he actually takes a step toward him, so he can wipe that look right off of it. Felicity must understand what he's thinking though because she looks at him, her expression pleading, and he suddenly realizes that Raymond isn't the only one in the room who is staring. Only a few dare to look annoyed at Oliver's arrogance at barging in and unceremoniously ordering his employees around, but the rest are mixtures of suspicious and confused. It's that, even more than Felicity's clear embarrassment, that makes Oliver realize he'll have to back down.

As often as he barges into her office unannounced, he's always been sure to keep up pretenses in front of her coworkers. And not just because of the company dating policy—which he has always seen as a mere suggestion, even a challenge—it's the idea that they have to keep up pretenses because of the Hood that resigns him to the fact that they'll have to talk elsewhere. As with Diggle, they have to keep up the appearance that they barely know each other, that their relationship is professional and nothing more. Felicity has complained time and again of how much people in the office love to gossip and if he does convince her to stay, this incident won't make their lives any easier. So, Oliver reluctantly steps back toward the door and huffs out a frustrated breath of air before turning on his charming CEO façade.

"Never mind, Ms. Smoak, that's a very important client you're talking to now, I'll come back later." Somehow, he manages to shut the door without wringing Raymond's neck and returns, much to his secretary's surprise, to his desk until 6 pm, the usual end to his work day. Still, he's out the door before the hand strikes 6:01 and sets off immediately for Felicity's apartment when he realizes that sitting on her doorstep until she gets home isn't exactly inconspicuous either. And there's no guarantee she would let him upstairs to talk in that scenario. He flips a u-turn and heads toward the lair, deciding his best option is to Hood up and sneak onto her fire escape. It's inconspicuous and she'll have a harder time turning him away.

He paces around the lair, partially because he's waiting for the sun to go down and partially because he's hoping against hope that Felicity will show up at her usual time. Finally, the sun sets and he's bounding across rooftops toward her apartment in no time. He takes the same path down the side of the building as he did the first time he came to her in the night, when he found out about Malcolm and his mother.

As before, the bedroom window is dark, but this time, he doesn't find her sleeping. Instead, the room is deserted and her absence from it reminds him of the lair earlier. It's making him antsy–just sitting there–and he's considering prying open the window to wait inside when the light suddenly flicks on. He shirks back from the window so she won't see him, thankful the curtains are mostly drawn.

Felicity doesn't walk all the way into the room right away. Instead, she just stands there for a moment in the doorframe looking even more miserable than she did yesterday morning, a cardboard box hanging askew in her left hand. She heaves a heavy sigh before walking around the room and starts placing items in the box, seemingly at random. She disappears for a moment as she heads into her bathroom and it's when he sees her placing men's cologne and hair gel in the box that Oliver realizes she's collecting Raymond's things. The light goes off in the bathroom and she steps out a few moments later. Walking over to her dresser, she places the box on the ground and pulls open a drawer near the middle, reaching in and unceremoniously dropping clothes into it. She pushes the drawer shut with her knee and is just bending down to pick up the box when something falls over on the top of the dresser. Her eyes turn to it and she smiles when she sees it. She picks up the object and Oliver recognizes it immediately.

_The three of them were out on a mission. Some local drug dealer was preparing to pass off a payment to his supplier and the Hood was going to make sure it would be the last payment he ever got. The exchange was set to take place in the courtyard in one of Starling City's less popular public parks and Oliver brought Felicity and Diggle along to spot the target since his perch from a nearby building had limited visibility._

_They were stationed on opposite sides of the courtyard. Diggle reading a newspaper on a bench and Felicity wandering around looking touristy. In typical fashion, she had become distracted by one of the artists selling his wares, his small table covered with miniature carvings made of a variety of stones. The dealer had walked right by unnoticed because she was too busy talking to the artist._

_"Felicity, focus please," Oliver had said, exasperated. "Rodriguez is at your 4 o'clock." She zipped around with a little "oops" and then had to try to cover the swiftness of her reaction, awkwardly digging around in her purse until she found her phone and tapped at the screen as if she had received a message._

_"Way to stay cool, Smoak," Diggle had intoned sarcastically._

_"Hey, I won't apologize for appreciating good craftsmanship," she replied defensively._

_"I'm sure that guy would prefer you showed your appreciation in money form," Diggle quipped._

_"We're on a mission, Digg," she'd responded drily, "now's not the time for art acquisitions."_

_"Focus please," Oliver had repeated more angrily, but he had still gone back to the park the next day. After looking through each figure he had settled on a rabbit carved of white alabaster with little flecks of grey in the stone. The next week, the morning of her birthday, he had set it on her desk with a little green bow tied around its neck._

_"I was thinking we could call it Hoppy 2," he had said and smiled. Felicity had squealed in delight and bounced in her chair, unintentionally proving why her parents' nickname was so apt._

Oliver reaches up a hand to tap on the glass of her window, thinking this would be as good a time as any to get her attention, when the sound of her doorbell ringing causes Felicity to turn. She sets down the figure, picks up the box and heads out of the room.

After a few moments, Oliver hears the sounds of muffled voices, one of them definitely male and likely belonging to Raymond. He can't hear what they're saying, but things clearly intensify. Voices are raised, doors are slammed and a few seconds later, Felicity comes into her room sans box and her eyes brimming with tears. She raises a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob and her eyes fall upon her dresser. She lets out a frustrated sound, picks the little carved rabbit up and hurls it toward the window Oliver's looking through. He falls back out of view and hears it shatter against the wall. Felicity's crying grows louder and when he peeks through the window again, she's crumpled on the floor, head in hands.

Oliver reaches up to open her window, desperate to comfort her, but suddenly stops when a sobering thought enters his mind: what if last night didn't mean the same thing to Felicity as it did to him? What if what he thought of as the beginning of something was just a mistake to her? What if her reaction wasn't caused by desire for him? Maybe he was just a desperate reach for comfort in the wake of the devastation of losing Raymond. And if it was just about Raymond, why hadn't it worked between them? He racks his brain trying to think of a reason when they seemed so happy at the wedding and almost gasps when it hits him: the reception. If it made Laurel suspicious, it probably raised a few questions in his mind too.

Oliver sits back against the railing of the fire escape, reeling at the idea that he might be the cause of all of Felicity's pain. He tries to tell himself it's not true, but the more he thinks about it, the more plausible it seems. Raymond has put up with the same secrecy, the same late nights, how could he not at least suspect something after what happened? Maybe when Felicity kissed him back last night, it was only to see if there was anything there. And maybe for her, there wasn't.

Oliver decides right then and there to do exactly as she asked, to stay away. He's been taking advantage of her time and goodness since the day he walked into her office with a bullet-ridden laptop, but he won't keep doing it. He won't ruin her life anymore.

He stands up, forcing himself to ignore how anguished Felicity looks sitting on the floor and stumbles away from her window. He heads back to the lair in a stupor, slowly retracing his way over rooftops. The sudden sound of a scream from the alleyway beneath him halts his progress. He looks down to see a hooded figure pressing a knife to the throat of a terrified woman.

Usually he would just shoot an arrow and be done with it, but something about the way the man runs his free hand over the woman's body infuriates him. He climbs down from the roof and then drops the final few feet, startling the man when his boots hit the ground. The guy barely has time to take the knife from the woman's throat and thrust it at Oliver before the latter punches him in the face. The woman lets out a startled scream as her assailant falls to the ground with a groan.

Oliver is on him in a flash, pounding his fists into the man's face over and over and over again, long after the man is unconscious. The only thing that stops him is his own body, his arms aching so much he can barely lift them and his breathing so labored that he has to sit back on his heels and catch his breath. The sight of the man's mangled face snaps Oliver out of his rage. He leans down to check his pulse and finds none. He stumbles backward away from the man's body and when he looks up at the woman he's just saved, she flinches back from him, terrified.

"Call the police," he mutters and stands. He runs and doesn't stop until he gets back to the lair, the constant movement keeping him from thinking about what he's just done. But when he gets there, the space is so bereft, so quiet, that all he can do is think about it.

Oliver wills himself to calm down, relaxing his hands from the fists they're balled into. His knuckles crack and he winces as he realizes he may have broken a few fingers. His hands shaking, he slowly peels the gloves off and grimaces when he sees the skin beneath is torn and bleeding. He walks over to the medical cart and pulls out the drawer with the supplies, but he's suddenly hit with the memory of the way Felicity tended his wounds. He can actually feel the way her soft hands would run over his, stroking and comforting as she soothed each cut.

It's more than he can bear.

Oliver grabs the drawer and throws it across the room with a roar. He kicks over the medical cart and takes a perverse joy in the way the contents spill across the floor. The metal medical table is next, hurled through the glass case where he keeps his suit. He destroys blindly after that, picking up arrows and snapping them in half one minute and using his eskrima sticks to shatter the remaining cases and lights the next. Soon, the only area left untouched is Felicity's desk. He turns toward it, ready to smash in the screens, when he sees her little pink cardigan hanging off the back of her chair.

_He remembers the first day she left it there._

_"Um, Felicity," he had said, "you forgot your jacket."_

_"Uh-uh," she'd said with a shake of her head. "I'm leaving that down here from now on. You two may not notice," she had paused and pointed between him and Diggle, "because you're always all hot and sweaty from punching each other, but this place gets drafty."_

_"Nobody's stopping you from throwing a few punches, Felicity," Diggle had teased._

_"Oh, I've thought about it," she had muttered, her voice suddenly distant as she absently chewed on her thumbnail and ogled them._

The eskrima sticks clatter to the floor as Oliver reaches out to the sweater, pulling it off the back of the chair and burying his face against it. He weeps then, dropping to his knees in front of Felicity's desk and breathing in her scent, his bloodied hands staining the fabric. Later, he falls asleep in the same spot, his body curled around the tiny piece of fabric. As if it's his only proof that she was ever there at all.

* * *

Oliver doesn't bother fixing the lair. He only tidies it up enough so that he can keep working and clears a pathway through the broken glass. Felicity's desk remains completely untouched, like some sort of shrine. Her sweater is draped over the back of the chair as if it had never been moved. The only difference is that it's still stained with Oliver's blood. He feared that if he washed it, it wouldn't smell like her anymore.

The two weeks before Diggle returns pass painfully slow. Oliver spends the first few nights in the hood, but without Felicity to find targets, he ends up wandering the streets aimlessly, hoping to stumble upon a crime in progress. He eventually catches two men in the process of stealing a car, but the two broken fingers on his right hand affect his aim (or at least he tells himself that's the reason and not the fact that his hands are shaking) and he ends up firing two warning shots and allowing them to retreat unscathed and un-pursued.

After that, he reaches out to Officer Lance in hopes that he can direct him toward any targets, but his former ally informs him (with seemingly little regret) that he can no longer risk helping because his supervisors have been watching his movements even more closely. Though the vigilante has killed before, the brutal murder of a rapist (even one whose DNA connected him with multiple unsolved attacks against women throughout the city), does not sit well with the new ADA. He once again calls for the Hood to be tried in court for his crimes and admonishes him for exacting violent justice on his own terms without oversight from the city's citizens or judicial infrastructure. Many Starling City residents still see the vigilante as a hero, but the SCPD Commissioner promises a severe crack down on any Hood activity. So, after receiving Lance's message and narrowly dodging the bullet of an over-zealous policeman while on patrol, Oliver decides to stay in the lair.

The splints on his hand are a hindrance to his workout regimen, but he eventually finds a way to work around them. He sharpens arrows, he does cardio and strength training, he strenuously avoids looking at Felicity's desk. He tries not to think about how empty the lair feels or how much his solitude reminds him of his later years on the island, but then his nightmares of that time return and he wakes up more than once in a cold sweat.

Diggle finally returns on exactly the same day as Felicity leaves QC. Oliver doesn't find the coincidence amusing in the least. When his partner first walks into the lair, he only makes it about three steps down the stairs before his expression goes from shock to anger.

"Jesus, Oliver, what happened in here?" he asks and resumes walking down the stairs. "You know how expensive this equipment is. I can't believe Felicity let you do this."

"She's gone," Oliver replies flatly. Diggle looks up, stunned, and opens his mouth to speak, but stops when his eyes meet Oliver's. He must see something there because he frowns and starts organizing the lair in silence.

Oliver appreciates it more than he can ever say.

Once the lair is righted, Diggle starts using Felicity's computers to help them find targets. One day he just types the password in like he's done it a million times and Oliver guesses that he must have gotten it from her. He almost asks how she's doing, what she said, if she misses them; instead he sets his jaw and shoots arrows into tennis balls for the next hour.

It's not until the second week that Diggle finally asks him about it.

He's sitting at the computers, his phone to his ear when Oliver walks out from the back, freshly dressed and ready to take down one of Saverin's underlings. Diggle hunches slightly when he sees him coming, suddenly looking a little self-conscious. Oliver steps around the desk to look at the screens, expecting to see all the intel he needs to take the target down and instead sees windows and text appearing seemingly of their own volition. The cursor darts around the screen without Diggle touching the mouse and Oliver suddenly knows that Felicity is somehow controlling it. He gets the eerie feeling that it's like her ghost is sitting behind the screens. It makes him shudder.

Finally, the movement stops and Diggle smiles as a window showing live footage from surveillance cameras at the home of the leader of Saverin's drug ring appears on the screen.

"Thanks, I never would have been able to figure that out on my own," he says into the phone. Diggle's brow furrows as he listens to Felicity on the other end. He glances at Oliver and frowns before saying, "not so good." He listens for a few more moments and then adds, "you too," before giving a small laugh at whatever she says in return and then hanging up the phone.

"Is Dixon's security as heavy as we thought?" Oliver asks, setting his jaw. Diggle gives him a searching look and heaves a sigh before answering.

"Not nearly," he replies. "Looks like it's too front-loaded,” he explains and points to the bundle of men on the screen. "The back of the compound is almost completely unprotected because it's so close to the cliff face."

"So it's a simple matter of a grappling hook then," Oliver says and turns to grab his bow. "You watch the surveillance feeds and let me know if anything changes," he adds as he heads for the stairs.

"Oliver,"Diggle says seriously and waits for him to turn, "what happened between you and Felicity?" Oliver shuts his eyes and shudders at hearing her name.

"Nothing happened, Diggle," Oliver says calmly and fixes his partner with a warning gaze. "She wanted to leave, I let her. She has the right to a normal life."

"I'm not saying she doesn't, but I doubt that's the real reason she left," he replies and stands. "She won't tell me what happened either, but it must have been pretty bad with the way you've been acting."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Diggle," Oliver says without much conviction.

"I haven't seen you this bad since you first got back from the island," Diggle declares and Oliver feels it like a punch in the gut. He steps closer before continuing, his voice more compassionate. "Oliver, I don't know what happened between you two, but I know that this, you two staying away from each other, isn't working for either of you." He places a hand on Oliver's shoulder and for a single moment, Oliver considers that maybe his partner is right. But the image of Felicity crying on the floor of her bedroom flashes through his mind and he roughly shrugs Diggle's hand off of him.

"Yes, it is," he says firmly. "The farther away she is from me, from this life, the better." Oliver turns and walks up the stairs, bow in hand, and convinces himself for the hundredth time that he's doing the right thing. She never wanted this life, she was only supposed to help him find Walter and she did that long ago. It doesn't matter how much he misses Felicity, how much he thinks he needs her. Because she doesn't want him and he can't change that, no matter how much it hurts. But he can survive this. He's survived worse.

* * *

Oliver tries to avoid it as long as possible, but after three weeks of his office computer randomly shutting down at the most inopportune times, he knows he can't wait any longer. He has to tell the IT Department.

He sends an email explaining the problem and sends it off, hoping they don't send who he thinks they will. Still, he's unsurprised when, half an hour later, his secretary tells him that a Mr. Edward Raymond is here to see him. He tells her to let him in and then hears a soft knock on the door of his office.

"Uh, Mr. Queen?" Raymond says and ducks his head around the door.

"Come on in, Edward," Oliver says with a beckoning wave. "Nice to see you," he says without malice. The other man looks a little confused for a moment and then steps into the room looking cautious.

"Nice to see you...sir," he says awkwardly. "What exactly seems to be the problem?"

Oliver tries and fails to recreate the issue and then allows Raymond to take a seat behind the computer and give it a try. He also fails to recreate it and finally decides the best solution is to take it with him, copy the hard drive and put it on a new computer.

"I'm guessing the problem has something to do with the wiring," Raymond explains as he picks up the tower and walks around the desk. "I would try to take it apart and figure it out, but I've never been good with machinery. Felicity—"

Raymond flinches and stops mid-sentence and he and Oliver both shuffle and fidget in the silence that follows.

"Ms. Smoak was quite an asset to QC," Oliver says formally, "quite a loss."

"Quite," Raymond agrees, his voice a little tight and Oliver can't help but sympathize.

"Have you spoken to her lately?" Oliver asks, unable to stop himself.

"Not since her last day," Raymond replies thoughtfully. "But I never really expected we'd stay friends after she told me she didn't want to marry me." Oliver starts, surprised, and then quickly composes himself.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea," Oliver says apologetically.

"You really didn't, did you?" Raymond responds, his tone astonished, his expression searching.

"Why would you think I would?" Oliver asks, confused. Raymond frowns, contemplating.

"Can I say something without getting fired?" he asks suspiciously.

"Of course," Oliver replies with a shrug, but Raymond still stares at him for a moment before continuing.

"I thought you were the reason she turned me down," he divulges.

"What?" Oliver asks and clenches his fists. "Why?"

"I felt terrible about the cake thing at Diggle's wedding," he says and sighs. "I'd always planned to propose that weekend. I had this whole fancy brunch thing planned for the next day, but I felt so awful and she looked so sad about ending the party like that that I just...went for it. And she barely even thought about it," he says and shakes his head, his eyes staring into space as he remembers. "She just flat out refused," he adds with a frown and then pushes his glasses up to run a hand over his eyes. "I guess I was still a little drunk when it happened so I accused her of...being with you. We fought and, well, you know the rest."

"Huh," Oliver huffs and shakes his head in surprise. The revelation that Raymond suspected the same things as Laurel isn't a surprise, but the fact that it wasn't really the cause of the break up is. He wonders why she would have said no....

"So you two never...," Raymond says and snaps Oliver out of his thoughts.

"No, no," Oliver reassures, "we never, um...no." Raymond purses his lips and nods, looking a little relieved. They stare at each other a few moments until Raymond finally breaks the silence.

"Well, I should probably get back downstairs," he says and readjusts the computer tower in his arms. "I should have a new unit back to you in about an hour."

"Great," Oliver replies and sticks out his hand, "thanks again, Edward."

"Sure, Mr. Queen," he replies and shakes his hand firmly.

Oliver watches him walk out and then turns to contemplate the view of Starling City through the windows.

Why would Felicity say no?

She seemed so happy with Raymond that day. And she hadn't done anything but gush about him the whole time they were dating. So what possible reason could she have had to say no?

He had always assumed it was lying about the Hood that led to the end of that relationship, but that argument came after she turned down the proposal. So there must have been another reason. He casts his mind back to the day of their last mission, to when they had talked about the fight. She had dodged the question and he'd assumed that she hadn't wanted to talk about it because she was still upset about losing Raymond. But maybe that had never been the cause at all. She might have avoided telling him for the same reason he had avoided telling her the cause of his fight with Laurel. Maybe they had gone to the foundry for comfort. Maybe that's why she had kissed him back.

He replays what he said to her that night on her doorstep and nearly bangs his forehead against the window when he realizes that he might have made her think he regretted kissing her. He'd called it a mistake, promised never to do it again. Maybe she had thought that meant he didn't want her, that it was a one-time event that he regretted immediately.

Maybe she had left because it meant protecting herself from disappointment. Maybe the thought that he didn't love her was just as painful for her as the reverse was for him.

Oliver wants to believe it, more than anything, but the thought seems almost too fantastic.

But what if it's true anyway?

He smiles and turns to his desk, picking up his phone and sending a message to Diggle.

If there's even the slightest chance that Felicity might feel the same way, he has to know. He has to ask her why she said no to Raymond, he has to ask her why she left. He has to tell her how he feels.

His partner texts him back almost instantly with the name of Felicity's new company, as requested. Oliver smiles at the simple "good luck," at the end of the message. He'll need it.

* * *

Oliver is out the door and driving toward her office within minutes. He makes a quick stop at an electronics store to buy a laptop and then promptly takes it out of the box and runs over it with his car, backing over it twice more for good measure.

By the time he reaches the company's offices, he's practically bouncing with excitement. He asks the woman at the front desk to direct him to a Ms. Smoak's office and almost runs down the hall toward it. Oliver collects himself a few feet before the door though; he fixes his tie, goes into full flirty-flirt mode and steps through the open door.

"Felicity Smoak?" he says with a smile. She jumps at the sound of his voice and then slowly raises her head to look up at him. Somehow, she seems even lovelier than he remembered. Her hair is down and her attire seems a little more formal, which doesn't surprise him considering she has a much more important position in this company than simple IT girl. Oliver can't say he dislikes the new look by any means, but he's glad to see the fuchsia lipstick is still present. He's got plans for it if things go smoothly. "Hi, I'm Oliver Queen," he says and shuts the door behind him before taking the seat across from her.

"Yes, I know who you are," she says warily and narrows her eyes. "What exactly are you doing here, Mr. Queen?"

"I've been having some trouble with my computer."

"Surely your company's IT Department could help you with that," she says admonishingly, but still plays along.

"Well, they used to, but we recently lost our best employee to another company. So, when I was looking into acquiring this company today, I thought what better way to test them out?" He holds up the decimated laptop then and she actually lets out a horrified little scream when she sees it.

"Oh my God, Oliver!" she says, breaking character, "What did you do?" She grabs the laptop from his hands, cradling it like an injured animal.

"I needed an excuse to see you," he says affectionately, unable to help himself at seeing how upset she is by the sight of damaged tech. She looks up at him, lips parted as if she's about to say something. Instead, she gingerly sets the laptop down and fixes him with her stern teacher look and it's all Oliver can do to keep himself from reaching across the desk right then and kissing her.

"Oliver," she begins seriously, but he can't let her go on, won't lose control of the conversation.

"Why did you tell Raymond you wouldn't marry him?" he interrupts and she jumps in her seat and blushes.

"That's none of your business," she says and crosses her arms.

"I think it is," Oliver says and stands. He starts to slowly walk around her desk and she stands too, as if trying to escape. "I talked to him," he says as he stares into her eyes. "He said you fought about us, that he thought there was something going on between us."

"Stop," Felicity beseeches and he can hear the emotion in her voice.

"Laurel thought the same thing," he continues and approaches her, "it's why we broke up." She gasps and her eyes widen. "I told her she was crazy, but by the time I saw you the next day, I wished she had been right." Her eyes suddenly brim over with tears and Oliver instinctively reaches out to wipe them away. She sighs when his fingers graze her cheek and he can feel how quick her pulse is as his hand comes to rest along her jaw.

"I didn't regret kissing you that day," he says softly. "I've thought about doing it again every day since."

"Oliver," she mutters and the pleading tone is still there, but he thinks he can hear hope too.

"I've missed you so much," he says softly and steps closer. "I miss the way you ramble and the sound of your typing filling the lair. I miss how you always get so involved in your cover stories during missions and how beautiful you always look during them. And even now," he whispers the last part and she sighs, reaching up to place her hand over his.

"Oliver," she whispers back, but he interrupts before she can go on.

"I love that you don't call me 'Ollie,'" he continues and steps even closer. "I love that you don't see me for who I was before the island. I love that you push me to be better, to be a hero, even when arguing with you drives me crazy," he says and they both laugh. "I need you, Felicity. I want you," he whispers and reaches up his other hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Please come back to QC, to the lair, to me. I miss you. Please," he begs.

He stares down into her tear-filled eyes and wills her to say something.

But she doesn't.

Instead, Felicity takes his face in her hands and kisses him, passionate and hard, and Oliver is pretty sure it's the best god damn thing that's ever happened to him. He drops his hands and wraps his arms around her, picking her up. She lets out a surprised squeak and Oliver can't help but laugh.

"Can I take that as a 'yes?'" he says and presses his forehead to hers.

"Not quite," she replies and Oliver snaps his head back, looking hurt. She laughs and runs her hands through his hair comfortingly.

"I mean 'yes' and 'no,'" she explains and gives him a quick peck on the nose. "I'll come back to the Hood, but I don't think I should go back to QC."

"Why?" Oliver asks, pouting a little.

"Because the rule against inter-office dating doesn't apply here," she smiles and bites her bottom lip. Oliver chuckles and squeezes her tight, because he can.

"Well, now I definitely won't buy this company," he teases and leans down to kiss her again, but Felicity leans her head back and gives him a critical look.

"Oliver, did you really murder that laptop just so you could come down here to talk to me?"

"No," he replies sheepishly. She laughs and shakes her head then leans in to kiss him.

"Liar," she whispers just before their lips meet.

He loves that she can tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading and please, just one last time, leave some feedback. I don't plan to continue this story because I need a bit of a break, but one never knows. This thing was only supposed to be 10,000 words, after all.


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